Eyes of a Stranger
by xseikax
Summary: One defiant and bold, the other timid and abused. Two women with nothing in common except their race are suddenly pitched together, the only hope for Ferelden. Our differences can sometimes teach us about ourselves. Mahariel/Tamlen & Tabris/Zevran
1. Chapter 1

It was a perfect day. Even the hints of sky, peeking through the thick canopy of trees, was as blue as a robin's egg. A warm wind, light as a lover's caress, rippled through the forest, rustling the cluster of dark leaves with an airy dance that cast flickering shadows across the dark brown earth. Squirrels chattered exuberantly and birds sang happily, the wind carrying their songs to the Creators.

It was a perfect day. A day of life and peace. A day to remember all the good that could still be found.

But, to the young man leaning impatiently against the ancient oak tree, it was quickly becoming boring. Days like this made his legs twitch. He wanted to dart through the forest, chase after deer, or scare foxes. He didn't want to stand in one place for hours at a time.

With a restless sigh, he glanced down at the young woman digging in the damp earth. "So, how much longer are we going to be out here?"

The woman, Ashara, ignored the brusque tone, preferring instead to give all her attention to the large ginger root she was wrestling with. The stubborn thing refused to release its grip on the earth, and she was swiftly growing annoyed with it. She dug her fingers into the ground and scooped out handfuls of crumbling dirt, trying to loosen the root from its grip, but still it refused to budge. The more she tried to free it, the more she became convinced that this was becoming a battle of wills, and she was _not _about to be bested by a damn root.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she managed to free it enough to loosen its grip. When she pulled it out, she grinned smugly to see that the root was still whole. Sitting back on her heels and wiping the sweat from her brow, she looked at the young man watching her with impatience. She raised an eyebrow, a haughty expression that was an exact mimicry of the Keeper when her patience had been tested.

"We'll be out here until I have enough herbs to take back to the Keeper," she said, her tone making it evident she expected no arguments. "Besides, Tamlen, this would be much faster if you'd stop complaining and actually help me."

Tamlen let out a low chuckle, unable to keep a straight face at the familiar bickering the two of them engaged in, and held his hands up. "All right, I get it." He tapped his finger against the bark of the tree while Ashara went back to work–he still wouldn't offer to help; all these different plants were confusing to him–and watched as a bird whistled angrily at a chipmunk that got too close to its nest.

After a few minutes, in which the chipmunk harassed the bird by inching closer and closer, he let out a sigh. "Oh well. To be honest, I'd rather be out here with you anyway. There's no hunting today, and _hahren_ Paivel's going on and on about the Long Walk. I don't really feel like listening to it again."

Ashara reached for the large pile of ginger roots she had been gathering and carefully put them in the herb box the Keeper had sent with her. She stood up, brushing the dirt from her hands before giving Tamlen a long look. "It's important to know our history," she scolded lightly. "You can't just ignore it."

"I _do_ know our history, I just don't need to listen to it a thousand different times," he retorted with a scowl. The _Elvhen _history was nothing but stories of pain, defeat, and loss. Bitter slavery, stolen arts, and jealous _shemlen_ who hated the _Elvhen _simply for existing. He knew their history well enough. He didn't need to be constantly reminded of why their people were forced to move from one camp to the next, never resting, never safe, never to have a permanent home.

Ashara watched his face for a moment and bit her thumbnail. She knew his views well enough, but the past wasn't something to run from, or push to the back of the mind. "We remember our past so that we know better than to let it happen again." She lifted the heavy box–filled with herbs, oils, and potions important to the Keeper–to her shoulder as the two of them walked further into the forest, searching for any useful herb to bring back to the Clan.

Tamlen shrugged, and the swirling _vallaslin_ on his forehead twitched irritably. "Well, I suppose it worked. All of us know never to trust the word of a _shemlen_. They'll never get the upper-hand on us again."

Ashara tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips twitched at the simple arrogance of his statement. Of course _shemlen_ would never repeat their offenses. The Dalish were smarter now and, in Ashara's opinion, Tamlen was the best the _Elvhenan _had to offer. The finest hunter their Clan had ever had.

He caught her smiling at him and grinned, his foul humor disappearing quickly. "Do you want me to carry that for you?" he asked, pointing to the box perched on her shoulder. "That wood is heavy."

At once, her pleasant smile dissolved into an annoyed scowl. "Excuse me, but I'm quite capable of carrying this on my own. I'm not a _da'len_ who needs the bigger children to help me."

"Only you would take that the wrong way, _vulpasha_. It was just an offer." Tamlen lifted his chin, pretending to offense. "I was trying to be the honorable hero, who helps the fair maiden with her burden."

A very unmaiden-like snort came from Ashara. But, just as she was about to make a retort, she spotted a large patch of mint scattered across the forest floor. Delighted at the find–the Keeper was running low on mint–she set the box on the ground and knelt down, smoothing the fabric of her leggings over he knees, before starting to pluck the stems.

Tamlen studied the herbs curiously. Much as Ashara tried to teach him, he had never been able to learn much about plants. He knew which ones were dangerous, and which ones were safe, which was all he needed to know. The rest–their properties, what they were used for–flew over his head. "What is that?"

"Black peppermint," Ashara said as she inspected each stalk for signs of decay or rot or any other imperfection, before laying each out in the sun to dry. "You can use it in teas to get rid of various aches and pains, and it helps keep rodents away. They don't like the smell." She held up a stalk to her nose; rodents may not like the scent of mint, but _she_ certainly did. "Between this and the ginger, we'll have plenty of herbs to make sure you and Fenarel don't eat yourselves sick at tonight's evening meal."

"I do _not_ eat myself sick," he instantly contradicted angrily, though with an air of laughter. It was a common joke among the Clan that he and Fenarel were always hungry, and looked for any excuse to eat. The Clan often laughed that the hunters had to bring back extra food just to compensate for what the two young men would eat. But, since they were both very skilled hunters who provided a lot for the Clan, the joking was good-natured teasing.

Tamlen sat down and leaned against a tree, knowing that they would probably be here for a while, or at least until Ashara had finally finished gathering all the herbs she needed. "Well, at least you know so much about healing herbs. The Clan already trusts you almost as much as the Keeper." His grin widened. "That's probably why she chose you as her First."

Ashara didn't bother to hide her proud smile as she continued with her work. It was refreshing change to be able to admit how pleased she was with herself. Around the Clan, she was expected to be modest about her position. If someone congratulated her, it was her duty to smile demurely and state that she was simply honored to serve the _Elvhenan_. It was considered improper to be too boastful or arrogant, especially for someone who would one day lead the Clan and set an example for the _da'len_.

But, when she was with Tamlen and away from the prying eyes of the Clan, she could be as proud as she wanted to be. And she _was_ proud of herself. When Keeper Marethari passed–though please _Falon'Din _and _Dirthamen _let that not happen soon–Ashara would be the new Keeper, responsible for the Clan's welfare and safety. She would be set with the heavy task of keeping the _Elvhen_ lore and history safe, of remembering their language, speaking to the Creators on the Clan's behalf, and passing on the memories of their past to the _da'len_, so that they never forgot who they were, or where they came from.

Ashara had worked her entire life to prove both her strength and the skill of her magic to the Keeper, so that she would be chosen as First above Merrill, the other mage of the Clan. The day of Ashara's entrance into adulthood, when Marethari had announced to the Clan that Ashara would be their new First, was the proudest day of her entire life.

But, it had come with a painful price.

Merrill still tried to show a pleased face to the Clan, but it was clear to them all that she was bitter about losing her chance to be First, and now the two girls would never again be friends. If Ashara was honest with herself, she would understand Merrill's feelings, and not blame her for her anger.

After all, since she wasn't chosen as First, Merrill would be sent to live with another Clan that had no mage, to ensure that the tradition of Keeper and First would continue. Mages among the _Elvhenan_ were rare; if a Clan didn't have a mage, they would be given a mage from a different clan that had at least two.

Merrill, who was by nature shy and nervous, was terrified at the thought of leaving their Clan and being forced to live with a group of strangers. Although all of the _Elvhenan_ were kin, Merrill still wouldn't know the Clan she would have to live with. For all she knew, the Clan might even be from another country.

Unfortunately, however, she only had another two years to adjust to the idea. At the next _Arlathvhen_, the meeting of all the Dalish Clans that occurred once every ten years, she would have to say farewell to everything she had ever known and join a Clan of strangers. Ashara acknowledged to herself that it wasn't an easy situation for the girl, but that didn't stop her from feeling grateful at how things had worked out.

Pushing back the absurd feelings of guilt–after all, it wasn't _her_ fault that she had been chosen as First–she continued collecting as much mint as she could gather, unaware of Tamlen's gaze on her. He watched her work, studying the unconscious grace of her white arms, the way her long black hair tumbled over her shoulder, and felt a familiar wave of tenderness wash over him. For as much as they constantly bickered, he cared about her. And she for him.

Indeed, crouched over the mint as she was, she looked so small and vulnerable, but Tamlen knew it was only an illusion. That lithe frame was only a cover for a hot-headed stubbornness and a passionate need for movement that rivaled his own. Those foolish enough to equate her delicate looks with a quiet serenity soon learned their mistake, more often than not after a storm had been rung over their heads.

Ashara finally finished gathering the mint and carefully put the stalks in the Keeper's box. She sat back on her heels and, for the first time, noticed Tamlen watching her with a familiar glint in his blue eyes. The look made her want to grin, but instead she threw him a sly glance. "What are you staring at so intently?"

He cleared his throat and stood up swiftly, trying to keep the grin from playing across his handsome, tanned features. "Nothing at all." He shrugged and attempted to look casual, but Ashara knew better than to believe him.

She turned her face away so that he wouldn't her smile, while she closed the box and stood up, wiping the dirt from her hands and leggings. She knew Tamlen better than anyone else in the Clan, and knew exactly what he had been thinking about. But, it was fun to feign innocence; it was part of the delicious game they loved to play.

She'd pretend to confusion until he became flustered enough to simply react and pull her close. They both adored it. So, Ashara turned back to him, widening her eyes innocently. "Oh, well, if it's nothing, then we should continue further on into the forest."

Tamlen met her dark violet eyes and knew exactly what she was trying to do. He had intended to just laugh it off, and keep the game going, but his eyes drifted to the delicate arc of her pale lips. He swallowed and, unable to stop himself, reached out a hand to her and pulled her against him, pressing his mouth against hers while wrapping her in his arms.

That simple contact was enough to ignite desire in the both of them. Ashara backed away, pulling him with her until she felt herself pinned against the rough bark of a tree, with Tamlen pressing his body against hers in a way that made her shudder. She wove her long fingers through his bright hair, twisting the golden strands around as if to hold him in place while he explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

After a time, she reluctantly pulled her head back. "I need to finish gathering the herbs," she mumbled.

Tamlen didn't release her. Instead, he pressed his mouth to her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "Lie with me," he urged softly, running his hands lightly down her neck and collarbone.

She felt his need pressed against her and wanted nothing more than to agree, and lie with him then and there. To feel his weight pressing her against the soft earth and grass; to feel the light wind and warm sunlight on her bare skin. His hands drifting down her body made her want to melt like snow in the warmth, but she shook her head, even as she reveled in the feeling of his lips now traveling down her neck.

It took a lot of effort, but she gently pushed him away. "I can't. Not now." If she took too long to bring the herbs back, the Keeper would know exactly what it was that distracted her. And even Elgar'nan's vengeance would pale in comparison to the Keeper's displeasure.

With a reluctant groan, he slowly released her. "Then, come with me tonight, while everyone else is asleep."

The corners of her lips curved up as she met his burning eyes. "Maybe," she purred, "but only if you're nice to me."

Tamlen laughed and forced himself to step away from her before he could be tempted further. He watched as she picked up the Keeper's box of herbs, and the two continued their venture in search of more, each trying to distract themselves from the wild beating of their hearts.

He had known Ashara since they were both _da'len_, and had grown up with her and the others their age. Of course, all children were raised by both their parents and the Clan, but Ashara, Tamlen, and his sister Tianna had been something of a special case; the three orphans of the Clan. Because they lacked parents of their own, and had been adopted into other families, the three of them had grown close in their childhood.

But, as they had grown older, Tamlen began to realize that his feelings for Ashara ran deeper than mere friendship. He had been too nervous to say anything to her, but as the years crept by he found himself falling in love. Ashara was confident, intelligent, beautiful, and wild; what man wouldn't desire her? Yet, he always thought that she saw him as nothing more than a friend. As they grew older, she developed infatuations, like most of the girls, and he had watched with resentment and envy as other boys of the Clan tried to court her, especially after she was chosen as First. To bond with the next Keeper was an honor.

Tamlen, who had refused to chase after her with the other boys, had instead devoted his time to training, determined to prove himself as the Clan's greatest hunter. He had believed that he could catch her attention with his skill, and that she would come to see that he didn't just want her as the next Keeper, but as herself. But, after the tragedy of Tianna's death, he and Ashara had grown distant from one another, and he had given up all hope of ever repairing the damage.

It wasn't until _Atisha'mamae_, the festival day to honor Mythal, that Tamlen had found a reason to hope again. While the others were pairing up to dance and sing, Ashara had nervously approached him and asked if he would be her partner that night. During the festival, whether it was because of the _hahrens_' special drink or the intoxicating music, he told her how he felt. And, that night, he had learned that her feelings mirrored his own. He learned that she had thought he only saw her as a friend, that she had been jealous when other girls tried to catch his attention, and that she had been anxious when they had grown apart.

That had been two years ago, and they had been courting every since that night.

The Clan considered it to be quite a good match. Blood was important to the _Elvhenan_. They prided themselves on having the purest blood of all the _Elvhen_, and often boasted that their lines descended from the nobles of the Dales. Tamlen and Ashara both had a parent who could trace their ancestors back to the time of Arlathan. A child from the two of them would have some of the purest lineage of all the Clans; there was only a handful of children left amongst the _Elvhenan_ who could claim such a thing.

Tamlen cleared his throat as they walked deeper into the forest, trying to think of something to say while ignoring the eager pulse of his body. He could wait until tonight to lie with her. He had held her before; remembering the feel of her soft body beneath his, the way her violet eyes had looked up at him... it was worth waiting for.

But, right now, he needed to think of something else. "So... uh, the Keeper said we might move soon."

Ashara nodded, desire quickly fading at his comment. Moving the Clan was always a source of concern for her. One day, she would be the one responsible for deciding when to move. Although the Clan had a general route they traveled, it was still a heavy burden.

"Yes, we're to go north within the next few weeks." She glanced up at him. "You know, if we had land of our own, this wouldn't be a problem. We wouldn't have to always look over our shoulders; we wouldn't be forced to hide from _shemlen_, to steal and struggle to survive. We could build a place like the Dales, only greater. A place to put down our roots, where we can regain our true selves and become like our ancestors."

Tamlen frowned at her words, which was a common topic among their people. The younger members of the Clans often speculated on when they would finally have a home of their own. The Dalish had been wandering for hundreds of years, ever since the Chantry led an Exalted March on the Dales, slaughtering every elf they could find. Every member of the _Elvhenan_ knew why they had to constantly travel from camp to camp, but the nomadic lifestyle was hard on them all.

"You know what our history tells us, _vulpasha_. You know better than anyone; if we have land of our own, the _shemlen_ will only try to take it away from us again."

"Yes, I know," Ashara sighed. "It's just a wish."

She knew–they all knew–that the _shemlen_ hated the _Elvhen_ with a passion, especially the Dalish. The Chantry claimed that the Dalish were heathens, who refused to believe in their absent Maker, and many devout Andrastrians saw it as their duty to preach to and convert said heathens. Despite the fact that the Dalish never stayed too long in one place, never had anything that the _shemlen_ might want, they still looked for any reason to chase them away. In some cases, they tried to attack the Clans outright.

But, those of the _Elvhenan_ had learned to endure their lives unflinchingly, refusing the succumb to _shemlen_ rule. They chose to wander the land, struggling to preserve and rediscover their ancient history, trying to skirt away from any sign of trouble. It was hard on all of them, to focus on their survival and keep bitterness away. Some of the young hunters felt that they lived like cowards, stealing in the shadows, slinking away from fights. But, it was the only way to survive.

The alternative was far worse. The flat-ears, elves that lived within human walls, were treated like slaves. They knew nothing of the rich _Elvhen_ history, and bowed to their _shemlen_ masters like whipped dogs. They lived in plague-ridden homes, walled off from the rest of the world, and obeyed the ridiculous laws that never allowed them to rise above their poor surroundings. If they weren't killed by disease or from lack of food, their lives were often ended by beatings or murder. It was a pitiful life.

Ashara touched the _vallaslin_ around her neck; the swirling tattoo of clusters of vines and leaves, meant to symbolize both her love for the Creators, and her status as an adult. It served to tell anyone she encountered that she was Dalish, one of the proud _Elvhenan_ who would never bow to _shemlen_ rule.

Yet, for all of their refusal to allow others near them, it had to be said that the Dalish lived hard lives. They were constantly moving, always looking over their shoulders to make sure they were safe, that they would survive to see another day.

"A Keeper is meant to think of what's best for the Clan," Ashara said thoughtfully. "I want to do something more for our people. I want to do something to remind them that we're not just wandering hopelessly. I want to give them a reason to believe in the future."

Tamlen studied her determined expression. He took great pride in his Dalish roots, and was convinced that one day the Dalish would reclaim the powers of their ancestors. Perhaps not in his lifetime, but maybe in his children's. "Do you have any idea of what to do?"

"Not yet," she admitted. "But, I'll find one."

oOo

With the setting of the sun came a restful period for the Dalish. The duties and tasks for the day were finished, and the Clan slowly began to prepare for a night of sleep. But, before they climbed into their _aravels_ and tents for the night, they liked to sit up and talk, listen to stories, eat, and drink.

Ashara sat near the main fire, next to Merrill, as they listened to _hahren_ Paivel relay the story of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. It was an important story; a remind of why all of the Dalish must be wary, for danger could lurk around any corner. Ashara knew it was a good lesson for the _da'len_, but she still shuddered. Fen'Harel was a frightening creature; a powerful trickster who liked to cause chaos.

As usual, Merrill did everything she could to ignore Ashara, who still felt a slight pang at the snug. Once, the two of them had been good friends. As they were both training to be Firsts, they spent most of their days together, practicing their magic, memorizing their history and language, and preparing for the difficult life ahead of them. Merrill was extremely gifted at languages, but often came to Ashara for advice on magic, and the two women had helped one another to learn.

After Ashara had been chosen as the next Keeper, it all fell apart. Poor Merrill tried so hard to hide her resentment, but it had left a gulf between the two women. One that could never be healed.

"In ancient times, only Fen'Harel could walk without fear among both our gods and the Forgotten Ones. For, although he is kin to the Creators, the Forgotten Ones knew of his cunning ways and saw him as one of their own," Paivel recited with his back to the fire.

Ashara suddenly stood up, not wanting to hear the rest. She already knew the story by heart, and wouldn't learn anything new by hearing it again. Merrill threw her a sharp glance, but she ignored it and walked towards her _aravel._

Merrill strongly believed that she and Ashara should always sit and listen to _hahren_ Paivel at the evening fire, even if they had other obligations. She believed that they were setting a good example for the _da'len_, reminding them that even the adults still listened to the stories of their past. But, Ashara disagreed. The _da'len_ were always fascinated to hear of the great Emerald Warriors; they listened with awe while Paivel described the stories of the Creators. He had a natural gift of bringing the past to life, and the children would sit around him eagerly, their large eyes round as they soaked up every word. Even Keeper Marethari would often read by the light of her own fire, or busy herself with some other task while the evening tales were told.

Ashara toyed around with the idea of going to speak with her, but before she could make up her mind she spotted Tamlen sitting away from the fires with his best friend and fellow hunter, Fenarel. Wondering what it was the two of them were doing, Ashara walked over to the two of them.

As usual, they were laughing about something or other, slapping their legs and wiping tears from their eyes. As she approached, they looked up at her, still chuckling.

"_Aneth ara, lethallan_," Fenarel said brightly, his face still red from laughter. "Getting tired of Merrill glaring at you?" It was well known that Merrill was still angry over her chance at being First of their Clan. Most of the Clan thought it was impolite to discuss the situation, but Fenarel was above such trivialities.

Ashara bit back a laugh and sat down next to Tamlen. "What are you two doing over here by yourselves?"

"It's easier to gossip away from the fires," Fenarel said. Tamlen passed him a look, and he shrugged. "All right, I get the hint." He glanced towards the fires and met the eyes of Meira, one of the female hunters. With a grin, he stood up. "I think I can find something to occupy my time." He winked at the two of them and bounced off towards the fires and Meira.

Ashara and Tamlen sat in silence for a time, before Tamlen set down his drink and gave Ashara a strange look. "Tasar approached me earlier and asked if I would take the honor of training for Chief Hunter." He spoke casually, but studied her reaction carefully out of the corner of his eyes.

Ashara gaped at him. "Really? That's wonderful, Tamlen!" Tasar was the current Chief Hunter, responsible for training the young hunters and ensuring that the Clan had enough food and supplies to survive the harsh Fereldan winters. It was well known that he had started searching for a Second to take command when he became _hahren_. The Clan had widely expected that Tamlen would take the position but there had been some doubt, for Tasar had trained a number of highly skilled hunters.

Tamlen suddenly grasped both of Ashara's hands, his blue eyes intense. "I want you to know that when I'm made Chief Hunter, I'm going to ask you to bond with me." He watched her violet eyes widen and felt his stomach twist into a knot of anxiety. He knew that she wanted to be with him, but asking such a thing still made him nervous. He had even debated on whether or not to keep it a secret, and ask her to bond with him after his ceremony. But, he decided that it would be better to let her know. He didn't want her to wonder anxiously if he would ask to bond with her or not.

Yet, he still refused to actually ask her until he was made Chief Hunter. When he held the title, he would be of equal status with the Keeper, good enough to be Ashara's mate. She might claim that it didn't matter to her; that he could be the worst hunter of the Clan and she would still love him, but it was important to him.

Ashara was grateful for the darkness, which hid her red face. "I... don't know what to say."

"You'd better say 'yes' when I ask you," he replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Or else I might have to slip crickets in your _aravel_ again."

"Oh yes, because _that's_ the mature thing to do." She couldn't keep a straight face, and soon both of them had dissolved into laughter. Ashara wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Either way, you don't have to worry about it. Of course I'll say yes."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>_  
><em>hahren - elder; used as a term of respect<em>  
><em>vallaslin - the Dalish tattoos; each represents a different Creators<em>  
><em>da'len - childchildren_  
><em>Aneth ara - an informal greeting between friends<em>  
><em>lethallan - friendkinsman; used for female_

_**A/N:** First chapter, and we meet Ashara, the Dalish mage! I hope you enjoyed it. I've always been annoyed that Bioware took the easy way out and combined the elf and human mage origin b/c they didn't want to go down the route of the Dalish mage origin. So, I took it upon myself to create one. Also, before anyone comments on it, I'm aware that canon states that Merrill belongs to a different Clan from Mahariel's. But, I changed it to fit with the story. This fic will wind up being heavily AU.  
><em>

_Comments, suggestions are always greatly appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

"If you take any longer, I swear I'm going to just leave you behind," Shianni warned, leaning against the wall and watching her cousin with sharp eyes. "We only have a few hours left until dusk, and I'd _like_ to get out of this rathole at least once today."

Kali slid her worn and faded slippers over her feet and glanced up at the impatient redhead. "I'm coming. I just need to grab the basket for Mrs. Droullin." She hopped up from the chair and pattered over to the corner of their small house, grabbing the large basket of repaired linen.

Shianni watched her with something of a wistful look. "You're so lucky to have a job that pays decently. Maker only knows when _I'll_ manage to find something."

Kali flushed and dipped her blonde head. "It helps Father to have a little bit of extra money. But, don't worry about yourself. It's hard to find a good job; Father managed to save up enough to take care of us until something comes in."

Shianni, never one to focus for too long on such petty things like money, waved aside their monetary concerns with a toss of her short, vibrant hair, and held the door open for Kali. The two young women stepped out into the Denerim alienage, the small place set aside for the elves of Denerim to live so that they didn't disturb the humans. Kali took a look at the run-down houses, the clumps of weeds and fetid water pooled in the corners of pathways, and grinned to herself. It might not be much, but it was home. A home she adored.

Her cousin practically skipped down the path that lead out of the alienage. Her exuberant face was lit up at the chance of escaping their home, if only for a few minutes.

Kali might believe that poor surroundings and a run down home was better than having nothing, but her fiery cousin certainly disagreed. Shianni was always complaining that their people did nothing–nothing!–while humans used and abused them. She was convinced that if the elves just stood up against the humans, their lot in life could change. She never seemed quite certain as to _how_ the elves were supposed to do this, but that didn't stop her from talking about it constantly.

To Kali's mind the alienage was, as _hahren _Valendrian said, a place to protect them as much as it protected the humans _from_ them. She saw it as a safe haven away from the humans, a place where the elves of the city could retreat and be among their family and friends. It was true that no one had much money, that the walls were falling apart and the flowers barely grew, but it was better than being homeless.

The two women made good time through the alienage and crossed the bridge into the Denerim market, where Kali tried to keep her head down, and her green eyes on the ground. The last thing she wanted to attract the attention of the humans bustling about. Shianni, on the other hand, walked with her head up and a defiant edge to her jaw. She, for one, never seemed to care if she offended any of the humans, a trait that worried Father endlessly.

But humans made Kali nervous. They were so loud and pushy. Her stomach dropped whenever she saw one of the men leering at her or Shianni, or when she heard them screaming at one another. It was no crime for a human to strike an elf, and many of them were known to cuff random elves in the street simply because they were in the way.

If Kali had had her way, she would have preferred to avoid them altogether. But, the only way for an elf to have any sort of job was to work for a human, since elves weren't allowed to own their own businesses. It was either that, or resort to thieving, which many of them did.

Thankfully, Mrs. Droullin wasn't so bad. She owned the tailor shop near the market and gave Kali, in addition to some of the other elven women, a decently secure job repairing linen, and sometimes clothing, for her customers. It was a nice job, and at least Mrs. Droullin didn't strike them for minor offenses, or withhold their pay after a bad day.

The basket was heavy in Kali's arms and the sun was bright. Droplets of sweat beaded against her forehead; she brushed her blonde bangs away from her eyes and tried to focus on Shianni's gossip.

"–and I told Elva, it's not _my _fault her husband's a drunk." Shianni tossed her head indignantly. "She's just jealous because he'd rather ogle the girls than pay any attention to her. But really, can you blame him? The woman looks like a drowned cat!" She collapsed in to catty snickers, which made Kali frown.

"You should be nicer to her, Shianni. The poor woman's had a rough life. Fendrel spends whatever money she makes on beer and ale; she can barely afford to buy clothes for her children!" It was a familiar story to most of the families in the alienage; there simply weren't many ways for elves to make money, and so a number of them resorted to drink to fight off the hunger.

Kali's family was better off than most, thanks to her job with Mrs. Droullin, and the fact that Father had been thrifty with the money he earned from his time working for bann Rodolf. Her family might be poor by human standards, but at least they had full bellies, which was more than most families could say. Kali felt bad for others who were worse off, and Elva was certainly one of them. The woman might have a poisonous tongue, but she did have a lot to be angry about.

Shianni, however, didn't seem to care. She shrugged, unaffected by the chide. "Well, I'd feel bad for her if she wasn't such a bitch to everyone all the time. That's why no one wants to help her, you know? Nola's parents even offered to let her and her children stay with them for a time, until she had saved up enough to get a place of her own. Everyone knows how Fendrel is, and they wanted to help but do you know what Elva did? She spit on the ground and said she didn't want to live in their hovel!" Shianni tutted angrily. "As if she has any room to talk!"

Kali knew it was pointless to try and argue any further, so she kept quiet as Shianni continued on with her ranting and gossiping. By the time they reached the market, her cousin must have talked about every single member of the alienage. She had a knack for remembering even the slightest tidbit of scandal and exaggerating it to the point where one would think the half the alienage was sleeping with the other half.

Finally offered an excuse to end the gossip and slander, Kali inclined her head towards the basket in her hands. "I need to give this to Mrs. Droullin, and then we can look around the marketplace." Shianni nodded, and the two of them walked towards the tailor shop.

They opened the door to the cool store, the bell ringing to signal their arrival, and were greeted by the large and always cheerful Mrs. Droullin, who stood behind the counter with a giant smile on her face. "Well! Hello dearies!" She was gentle for a human; an elderly lady with graying hair and kind eyes. She and her husband had never been blessed with children, so Mrs. Droullin liked to act motherly towards anyone who entered her store.

"I have the linen, ma'am." Kali handed her the basket.

Mrs. Droullin smiled so widely her eyes almost disappeared into her round face as she took the basket. "Excellent! Lady Rassent's servant isn't expecting these for another week at least! You, my girl, have earned a bit extra." She set the basket on the counter and drew out a few coins from her purse. "Three silvers, that should do fine."

Kali cautiously took the coins, though she was hesitant to do so. Normally she was paid one bit for her work; she certainly didn't deserve so much silver! "Th-thank you, ma'am!"

Mrs. Droullin dismissed the young woman's hesitancy with a careless wave of her pudgy hand. "No worries, m'dear. I should think you could find these coins very helpful." She nodded at Kali with a knowing smile. "A little birdie told me there is to be a wedding soon."

The freckles splashed across Kali's nose disappeared as all the color in her face drained. Shianni forced a laugh and put an arm around her cousin. "You know how Kali gets, ma'am. The poor girl's so embarrassed to think about her handsome betrothed."

"All young girls are nervous and flighty before their wedding," Mrs. Droullin proclaimed. "Why, when I was betrothed to my dear husband, I was so terrified I swore I'd run away to Orlais!" The seams against her heavy bosom threatened to burst with the force of her laughter. "But, a pretty girl like you? There's no need to worry; your betrothed will swoon at the sight of you. Why, a girl like you can have him wrapped around your little finger with one hand tied behind your back!"

She began pulling the linen from the basket, chuckling about all the _other_ things a young woman could do to a husband with one hand tied up. Once she had finished inspecting all of the repairs, she waved a hand at the two women. "Well, why don't you go on? I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to an old lady chatter. Kali, I'll send for you when I have more work to be done."

They left the store and, once outside, when the anxious look on Kali's face didn't fade, Shianni turned to her cousin with her hands on her hips. "Oh, there's no need to be so worried," she said, with all the impatience of one tired of repeating herself. "You know as well as I do that Uncle Cyrion picked out a good match for you."

Kali shook her head helplessly. This argument was nothing new to either woman, and Kali had protested enough times to know that nothing would be changed. It was pointless to say anything.

In the alienage, it was tradition for parents to arrange marriages for their children when the reached the ideal age of twenty. Parents wanted their sons and daughters to marry into families that would give them and their children better lives, but no one ever thought to ask the young ones what _they_ thought of the matter. And, like most parents, this is exactly what Father had done.

Kali's betrothed was a man named Nelaros, from the rich city of Highever. Father had spoken highly of him, claiming that he was handsome and a skilled blacksmith, a rare trade for an elf. His master had already written to Master Faucon, one of the smiths of Denerim, asking for Nelaros to be given a position at the shop. The request had been granted, which had sent Father into a fit of excitement. Nelaros already had a secure job even before setting foot in Denerim!

Father had saved for years to provide a large enough dowry to entice such a husband for his only daughter, his only child. It was a great match–a wonderful match–and everyone had spent weeks remarking on how lucky Kali was. Nelaros would make enough money to provide for Kali and her entire family!

But, Kali didn't want to marry a man she knew almost nothing about. Nelaros might be handsome and accomplished, but what did they actually know about him? For all they knew, he could have anger issues. He could be a drunk, or have gambling problems. Father would never want Kali to marry a man that mistreated her, but once the wedding was finished and she was a wife, what could he really say about it?

And, as Shianni browsed through a flower cart, looking for something to brighten their small home, Kali reluctantly admitted to herself that Nelaros' potential character flaws wasn't really the reason she didn't want to marry him. No, the real reason she didn't want to marry him was a secret she shouldn't even be thinking about.

"What do you think of these lilacs?" Shianni asked, holding up a bunch of the fragrant flowers. "They're not too expensive, and Uncle Cyrion would be cheered up to see them in the house."

Kali was barely paying attention, too lost in her own pessimistic thoughts. "They're very pretty."

Shianni frowned at her. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing." Kali ducked her head, trying to hide her face. She passed the flower girl one of the silver coins and collected her change while Shianni sniffed at the flowers. Then, the two of them walked back towards their home, while Shianni resumed her constant gossip about pretty much every single one of their neighbors.

When they reached the center of the alienage, Shianni turned to her cousin. "Give me a few minutes to go put these in some water before they wilt. Then, we can go sit by the ocean until it gets dark." She loved nothing more than staring out at the cove of water leading to the ocean. During the daytime the docks were safe enough, if a bit busy, and Shianni liked to watch the sparkling water and talk of a better life. So long as the two girls stayed out of the way and avoided the occasional drunken sailor here or there, no one troubled them.

Shianni fluttered off and Kali, in an effort to distract herself from her thoughts, walked over to the _Vhenadahl_, the large, beautiful tree situated in the very center of the alienage. It was called the Tree of the People, and was the only real sign of life in the alienage, the one thing that was well taken care of. _Hahren_ Valendrian, the village elder, once told her that every alienage across Thedas had one. He told Kali that as long as the _Vhenadahl_ endured, so would the elves. It symbolized their link to who they once were.

Valendrian claimed that once, long before the humans had even arrived on Thedas, the elves were immortal. He said they held their own lands, that they were ageless and strong, and that the humans took it all away.

Was it true? Had they really fallen so far? It was a difficult thing for Kali to imagine, considering how the elves lived now, but there was no way to tell for certain. Valendrian had said that any records of the past had been lost long ago. Alarith, the alienage shopkeeper, swore that the elves had once lived all across Thedas. He said that there were still elves that lived in the wilds, who spent their lives collecting all of their rich history, who refused to allow humans anywhere near them.

They were called the Dalish, but no one knew for certain if they really existed or not. Alarith liked to brag to anyone that would listen about how a Clan of Dalish had saved him on his trip to Denerim, but he was known for exaggerating the truth. Father claimed that if the Dalish _did_ exist, they were most likely ruthless and cruel barbarians. He said that there were rumors that they attacked caravans and murdered innocents.

Kali shuddered. Life in the alienage might not be easy, but at least it gave her a chance at living an honest life. If the Dalish did exist, they must be vicious savages.

"Kali?" A deep voice broke her thoughts, calling her out of her musing. Kali turned to see, of all the people on Thedas, Jandar, walking towards her with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing here? Where's Shianni?"

"S-she's dropping some flowers off at home," Kali said nervously, taking a slow step away from him. Oh Maker, why did he have to be here now? Shouldn't he be working?

Jandar tried to smile, but it was a bit strained. Kali resolutely turned her head away, firmly not paying attention to how his dark skin was almost bronze in the sunlight. "Look, I'm on my way to Alarith's shop," he said. "Since Shianni left you alone for a few minutes, do you want to come with me?"

She instantly shook her head; her cropped blonde hair whipped against her red cheeks. "No, I can't. You know that. If Shianni comes back and I'm gone, she's going to be livid." Why did he have to keep asking? The decision had been made; couldn't he just leave it alone? He was making it harder for her; for them both.

Jandar glanced around to make sure no one was watching–it was the middle of the day, and few people were about–before turning back to her with a frown. "Kali, in just a few weeks you and I will be married," he whispered harshly.

Kali wasn't the only one forced into an arranged marriage. The caravan that brought Kali's betrothed would also bring his, a girl by the name of Nesiara. There was nothing either of them could do about the situation, but from the moment they had been informed of their fates, Jandar had started trying to convince Kali to go off with him alone somewhere. He claimed that they should be together at least once before they were separated.

As the wedding date slowly inched closer, it was growing more and more difficult for Kali to stay firm and refuse. But, she had to.

"Jandar, we can't." She really didn't want to marry Nelaros but she couldn't refuse her father. And, if on her wedding night Nelaros discovered that she was no longer a virgin, there could be problems. She would never bring that shame to her father.

Jandar sighed heavily, running his fingers through his dark hair, anger and helplessness making him agitated. "So what? Am I supposed to just forget about you once I marry a stranger? Is that what _you're_ planning to do?" Suddenly, he reached out a hand and gripped Kali's forearm tightly. "You can't just ask me to accept this!"

Kali lowered her head, not wanting to meet his eyes. She felt horrible about this, but Father was counting on her to take care of him in his old age. If she lost this chance to provide for her family, that money that Father had saved would eventually run out, and they would be forced to beg on the streets. "Please, Jandar, let me go."

Jandar looked as though he wanted to argue. He knew her reasons for refusal, had heard her list them over and over and over again. And, while he wanted to respect the wishes of this girl he cared so much about, it made him miserable. What kind of man was he, that he couldn't prove to her father that he could provide for them? Because of that, her father had been forced to turn to a stranger.

They heard footsteps behind them and Jandar swiftly released his grip on Kali's arm, twisting around in time to see Shianni's brother, Soris, looking at the both of them with intense suspicion. "What are you two doing?"

"We were just talking," Kali said quickly, but her cousin continued to stare at her skeptically.

Both Soris and Shianni knew that there was more going on between these two than Kali would admit, but since their uncle believed that she no longer spoke to Jandar, they had decided amongst themselves to never leave her alone. While neither he nor Shianni could bring themselves to betray their cousin, if someone saw the two of them talking so intimately together, it would start a whirlwind of gossip.

Soris crossed his arms and glared accusingly at Jandar until the man was forced to slowly walk away, his shoulders stiff with resentment. Kali watched him leave, the pain on her face visible, and Soris twisted back to scowl at her. "You _need_ to stay away from him! You're going to be married soon, and Nelaros isn't going to come all the way to Denerim if he hears you're messing around behind his back with another man!"

Kali's large green eyes widened to almost twice their size. "Jandar and I aren't doing anything!" she protested, speaking nothing but the truth. They had kissed once or twice, before they were forbidden from marrying each other, but that was it. And, once Kali was betrothed they had stopped doing even that.

"_I _believe you, but others might not."

Kali looked away. Soris just didn't understand, but he should! The alienage was a small place; it was almost impossible to avoid someone completely. And, a small, resentful part of her thought that she should _have_ to avoid him.

She had known Jandar since she was a little girl, had been in love with him for years. They had even started planning a future together! But, when Jandar had approached her father to ask for her hand–secure in her father's approval–he had been turned down. Jandar was poor, poorer than Kali, and neither of their parents wanted them to be together. They wanted Kali and Jandar to have a husband and wife that could bring in more coin; one that would help provide for them.

While Jandar worked on the docks, loading cargo for minimal fees, he would never have much money. But, he was extremely handsome, and his parents had used rumors of his looks to catch him a wife that brought good coin from working at the taverns of Highever. She wouldn't make as much as Kali's future husband, but she _would _earn a decent sum when she started working at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. That was all their parents could think about: coin. Coin would keep them from living on the streets.

Kali had pleaded with her father to change his mind, to allow her to marry Jandar, but it hadn't done any good. He claimed that it was better to marry for advantage; love may follow but, even if it didn't, at least Kali would be taken care of.

That's what he and Kali's mother had done. Father had come from Lothering to marry Adaia, and theirs had grown into a real love, a passionate union. Even as a child, Kali had been able to see how much her parents had adored one another. When Mama was murdered by human guards, Father had slipped into a depression that had lasted almost a year. Even now, he wasn't the man he had once been, but he seemed dead set on his believe that arranged marriages didn't necessarily lead to a loveless union.

Nothing Kali could way would convince him otherwise.

Shianni came down the path from their house, smiling widely. "Uncle Cyrion loved the flowers–!" She cut herself off, looking between her brother and Kali. Almost immediately, her quick mind knew that something was off. "What's wrong?"

"Kali was talking to Jandar, _again_!" Soris threw up his hands. "Maybe you can talk some sense into her. I'm supposed to be helping Taeodor finish setting out rat traps." He stalked off, while Shianni twisted around to confront Kali.

"Why do you keep seeing him?" she hissed quietly. "If anyone finds out about you two, you're going to be disgraced! Uncle Cyrion denied the match! If he catches the two of you together he'll be furious!"

Kali turned her head away and refused to say anything. If she opened her mouth, she knew she'd end up mumbling apologized, like she always did. But, she couldn't be sorry for caring about Jandar. She didn't want to apologize for wishing she could be with him. It wasn't fair.

Of course, fair or not, it wouldn't matter when the wedding day came. Kali would have to bite back her tears and swear to be faithful and loving to Nelaros, a stranger she knew nothing about. Not for the first time, she wished she had Shianni's daring personality. If she was headstrong and courageous like her cousin, she would have slipped off with Jandar to marry him in secret, regardless of the consequences. But, Kali was never the type of girl to do something like that.

Shianni saw the pain cross Kali's pale face, and her anger quickly faded, replaced with a sisterly concern. With her cropped hair bouncing off her shoulders and those big eyes, Kali looked like a child. A child who had been cruelly struck. She pulled her cousin into her arms and hugged her tightly. "It's going to be okay, sweetie; I promise. Uncle Cyrion only wants you to be taken care of."

Tears built up in the corners of Kali's eyes but she blinked them back. She just wished that things could be different. She and Jandar had worked so hard to find good jobs, to show their parents that they could bring in decent money to provide for their families. But, it hadn't made any difference.

"Come on," Shianni said tenderly, drawing her cousin towards the path to the docks. "Let's go to the docks and talk for a while. You'll feel better getting away for a little bit."

Kali said nothing, and allowed herself to be drawn away.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>hahren - used as the term for the alienage elder<br>Vhenadahl - the Tree of the People  
><em>

_**A/N:** Chapter two and we meet Kali Tabris, the city elf from Denerim._

_Thank you to Legionary Prime and Kira Tamarion for the reviews. And thank you for everyone lurking and/or requesting alerts. It means a lot!_


	3. Chapter 3

Sunlight dappled through the thick cluster of trees, painting the dark soil with bright patches of daylight. Ashara sat cross-legged on the warm earth and tried to tune out the noise of a woodpecker off in the distance, burrowing in the holes of a tree with harsh pecks, searching for his next meal. Every other creature had been driven to shelter from the sweltering heat; even the bugs barely had enough energy to do anything more than hum lazily through the air. Why couldn't the damn bird take a break?

She ignored the drops of sweat trickling down the back of her neck and tried concentrating on the warm, soft earth felt beneath the folds of her skirt, but that annoying woodpecker was making it hard to focus. _Tap tap tap!_ Finally, with a defeated sigh, she opened her eyes, furrowing her brows in the direction of the bird. It was pointless to continue. _Well, I'd say I got half an hour of focus, at least. I guess I'll try again later._

It was important for both her and Merrill to mediate at least once a day, if not more. Meditation helped to focus the mind; it aided mages in the important task of controlling their thoughts and emotions. Even the Keeper still meditated on a regular basis.

"It matters not how controlled or strong one becomes; training is never a waste of time," Marethari always said.

Ashara slowly stood up, stretching out the muscles in her arms and legs. The Keeper had told her that there were times when meditation was not possible, that it was an understandable occurrence. The mind could be too troubled, or outside factors could potentially prevent one from focusing. _Like obnoxious birds._

When she was a _da'len_, she had found clearing the mind difficult, and in the dramatic way of most children, had run crying to the Keeper, sobbing that she had failed in her task and would lose control of her magic. But Marethari was a kind and patient mentor; she had gently eased Ashara's fears, taking her aside and explaining what the young girl had not fully understood.

Ashara had learned then, that meditation only helped to keep stress and anger to a minimum, it didn't fight those emotions completely. As a child, she had been convinced that it was a miracle talent, one that would keep her calm at all times, enabling her to always retain control of her magic. But all meditation did was help to keep the natural flow of one's emotions a bit more stable. It helped mages to understand their minds and keep their composure, of if a mage lost control, they risked the health and safety of everyone around them.

Ashara swished her floor-length skirt around her legs, shaking out the dust that clung to the dark fabric. If there was one thing she was guilty of, it was vanity. She had made this skirt herself, the only time she ever found herself sewing. Ashalle, her adopted mother, had taught her how to dye the fabric to her favorite shade, a dark violet that matched her eyes, how to fit the pieces together to form the flowing skirt that would swirl around her legs when she walked, and how to sew the stitches so tight that it would never fall apart. She had even surprised Ashara with two strips of fabric to wrap over her slim torso.

Ashalle had intended for her to wear the outfit on her _Vunin'lath_, her Mating Day, but Ashara couldn't bear the thought of waiting that long. Besides, it was far more practical than the tight robes and fur the Keeper and Merrill favored so much. She couldn't breathe in those stuffy clothes; it was far better to wear something that allowed for easy movement, and granted even the slightest hint of a breeze to cool her skin on hot days.

Once all of the dirt was off her clothing, Ashara took a look around, wondering where Tamlen had gotten off to. Whenever she or Merrill, or even the Keeper, meditated, they had to leave the camp to find silence. But they completely blocked everything out in such a state and could be easy targets, so one of the hunters always went with them, to sit at a distance and watch for enemies.

Usually, Ashara took a hunter by the name of Leyla with her, since the girl was by nature quiet, and enjoyed the relaxing time by herself. But since that night by the fire, when Tamlen declared that he wanted Ashara as his mate, the two began looking for even more excuses to be near one another. Marethari had allowed it, saying that she trusted that their relationship would not interfere with training.

Ashara's face softened; the thought of Tamlen filled her with such peace that she touched the tattoo around her neck, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to _Mythal_, who understands all about the feelings of true love.

"Finally finished?" Ashara jumped at Tamlen's voice; she hadn't even heard him approaching.

She crossed her arms and found him standing behind her, a shameless grin on his face at having startled her. The jerk must have been hiding in the bushes, waiting for the perfect moment to scare her. _I take back what I said about him making me feel peaceful._ With an offended air, she turned from him and swept her long black hair to the top of her head, cooling the back of her neck. "Yes, I'm finished. Why? You can't manage to sit still for half an hour?"

The haughty gesture and arrogant words caused him to laugh. He knew she would never admit to being startled, but it still amused him. Her long eyelashes swept her white cheeks and she refused to look at him, pretending to her annoyance. He loved how difficult she could be; it kept him on his toes and kept their union passionate and fiery. But beneath her arrogant personality beat a tender heart that few ever got to see. Tamlen counted himself lucky that he was one of those few.

Just as he was about to make a cheerful response, they heard a loud crash echo through the trees. Both of them froze. Tamlen put a finger to his lips as his ears strained to hear the sounds of rustling and stomping, carried on the wind. Silently, he drew his bow and notched an arrow while Ashara lowered her arms, her eyes wide.

"What is it?" she mouthed, but he shook his head, reluctant to answer any questions until he knew what they were dealing with.

Silence, sharp and deadly, beat against his ears, before he heard branches snapping and boots scraping against the dirt, about half a mile to the north. They were too loud to be Dalish; the ones making those noises had to be _shemlen_. Tamlen threw Ashara a warning look and darted off towards the noise; _shemlen_ could not be allowed to find the Clan!

Ashara snatched her staff from against a tree and ran after him, trying to keep up. But while her body was strong, she wasn't able to dart through the forest as easily as Tamlen, and soon he was out of sight. She knew the direction in which the sounds were coming and so she kept running, willing her legs to keep moving. She knew that those sounds had to be coming from humans; the Dalish would never make so much noise in the forest.

After what felt like hours, her legs cramping and aching with every step of the way, she finally stumbled into a small clearing to find that Tamlen had found three _shemlen_. Somehow, he had managed to corner them against the base of a small cliff with his arrow pointed right at them. He didn't even look at Ashara as she approached; his whole body was tense, ready to kill these humans at the slightest provocation.

Ashara studied these humans that were cowering away from Tamlen's pointed arrow. She rarely saw _shemlen_ up close, and inspected them curiously. The last time she had laid eyes on humans, she had been too caught up in other events to pay attention to what they looked like. To her critical eyes, they looked bloated and sweaty, their faces red and their eyes watery. They had none of the smooth grace of her people; there was no trace of the simplistic beauty of the _Elvhen_.

"Look, _vulpasha_, I think we found bandits," Tamlen sneered, raising his bow and pulling back on the string. It had only taken a few well-placed noises to frighten these _shemlen_ into a corner, herding them as skilled as any wolf. Now that he had them at his mercy, he couldn't resist the urge to taunt them.

One of the men narrowed his eyes and puffed his chest out, trying to assume a threatening posture, as if that would work. "Let us pass, elves. You have no right to stop us!"

Ashara let out a hard laugh. "Brave words, for unarmed bandits."

One of the other men, who appeared to have fallen, was visibly shaking. "W-we aren't bandits!" he squeaked. The third man leaned down to help him up, but neither of them took their eyes off the two elves and soon they both landed in the dirt. Ashara almost snickered, watching them scuttle around like frightened mice.

But there were more serious matters at hand. These humans were too close to the Clan; if their _shemlen_ village discovered the Dalish camp it could lead to fighting and death. Ashara raised her head, scowling at the humans. "Why are you here?"

Tamlen made an impatient noise in his throat. "What does that matter?" He aimed the bow at the two cowering on the ground. "They are too close to our camp and must be put down."

"Not yet, _emma'lath_," she said softly, still eying the _shemlen_. What if they had been sent ahead of their village, to find the Clan? The Dalish camped here at least once an _annar_; what if the humans took notice and were waiting to ambush them? Ashara's scowl deepened. "Tell me how you came to be here." The three men looked at her fearfully; when they remained silent, huddled together in their pitiful terror, Ashara lowered her chin and looked up through her slanted eyes.

The men couldn't seem to look away, as her eyes appeared to shift colors. "Answer me," she whispered sweetly.

The one standing visibly relaxed. Surely there could be no harm in talking to this girl. Look at her; she was a wisp of a thing, smaller even than the elves he had seen around his village. The man with her looked as if he followed her direction. If they answered her questions, surely she would let them go. A woman, even an elf, would hardly order a slaughter.

"We were in the forest and we found a... a cave. With ruins like we've never seen!" The words tumbled out before he could stop them; he glanced nervously at his friends in the dirt, before looking back at the strange elf girl. "We thought there might be... uh..."

"Treasure?" Tamlen interrupted, his arrow now pointed at the one standing. "So, you came to this forest to steal?"

Ashara kept her head down, refusing to let the human go from her trap. "You're not lying are you? We know this forest; there are caves, but no ruins."

"We aren't lying! Look, we found this in the ruins!" He held out a strange figure to Ashara. She released him from her grasp, and in one movement had it snatched from his hand. Then she retreated back to Tamlen.

It was a beautiful statue. She turned it over in her hands, trusting that Tamlen would watch the _shemlen_. It was exquisitely carved; a woman with the antlers of a _halla_. Her foot was lifted to show a moon carving, and two hares sat peacefully at her side. Was this supposed to be an icon of _Andruil_? Hares were sacred to her, but the _halla _horns could mean this to be _Ghilan'nain_, who loved _Andruil _with a passion.

The _Elvhen_ no longer knew what most of the Creators looked like, so she couldn't be certain which Goddess this might be. There was a flowing script written around the base and Ashara let out a gasp. "Tamlen, this is written Elvish!" She could read what little of the ancient writing they knew, but the words around the base of the statue were foreign to her.

Her head whipped up sharply and she glared at the three intruders. "And this is all you found? Why didn't you search for more?" If this came from a ruin, it must be a place that was once sacred to her people. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest; she was almost desperate to know where this had come from.

Released from her trap, the man standing was beginning to grow nervous again. His hands fluttered helplessly as he searched for a way out. "Uh, we were going to search further, but..."

"There was a demon!" one of the humans on the ground suddenly exclaimed. His face was drained of all color, making it look grey and sickly. "It was huge, with huge teeth and red eyes!" He looked around at his companions. "Thank the Maker we were able to escape it!"

Ashara held a hand up impatiently, cutting off his insane rambling. "Where is this cave?"

One of the men pointed through the trees. "To the west, near a fallen tree."

Tamlen shifted restlessly. They had the information they needed, and he was growing weary of letting these _shemlen_ talk. They must decide now whether to chase them off or kill them. "Well, what do you want to do with them, _vulpasha_?"

Ashara studied the humans thoughtfully. As First, it was her duty to keep the Clan safe. If she let these humans go, they would know of the Clan's location, and could bring their village against them. But if they were killed, wouldn't the village retaliate? Of course, dead men couldn't talk...

"Kill them." She glanced at Tamlen. "We can't leave them alive to bring their village against us." She could take no chances with the safety of the _Elvhenan_.

The men gasped at her words and began protesting and shouting, but Tamlen ignored them and grinned fiercely. "Yes, one could expect no less from a _shem_." He drew back the arrow. "This won't take long."

All three of the humans began scrambling in different directions, trying to either climb the short cliff or run past the two elves. But with the quick reflexes nurtured through years of training, it only took Tamlen three arrows to shoot the men down. Soon they lay still on the ground, blood oozing from their wounds. Tamlen slung his bow over his shoulder and went to ensure that the humans were indeed dead, while retrieving his arrows.

Ashara watched him, barely able to contain her excitement as she clutched the statue to her chest. "We _have _to find these ruins! If this statue really did come from such a place, imagine what else we might find!" She was practically dancing at the thought of learning some of the unknown Dalish history, completely ignoring the dead bodies around them. _Elvhen _history was far more important to her than weak _shemlen_ who entered places where they weren't wanted.

Tamlen grinned at her enthusiasm as he shoved the three dead bodies under the bushes and covered them with leaves. They could stay there until wolves came to feast, but at least the villagers wouldn't accidentally discover their three dead comrades. After covering the dead bodies and inspecting his arrows to make sure they were intact, Tamlen put them in the quiver strapped to his back and glanced at Ashara. "Well, they said it was to the west near a fallen tree. I think I might know the area they were talking about."

Ashara put the small statue in the pack wrapped around her hip and followed Tamlen through the trees and brushes, alert for any sign of anything unfamiliar. Along the way, she chattered about what they might find, her eagerness unable to be contained. The Dalish didn't know much about the ancient _Elvhen_ outside of _Arlathan_, but surely they must have lived all over Thedas before the humans came. When the Tevinter Imperium fought against _Arlathan_, it was widely believed that the Magisters destroyed anything the _Elvhen_ had; to find ruins in this area could be the biggest find in centuries!

After about an hour or so of walking, Tamlen spotted a cave dipping below the earth, with crumbling pillars, overgrown plants, and bushes concealing most of the entrance. Whatever this place was, it had been abandoned long ago. "It looks like the _shem_ was telling the truth," he said.

Ashara walked over to inspect the markings on one of the collapsed pillars, but the scratches were faded. She couldn't make out what it said. "I wonder why we've never noticed this place before." Her enthusiasm was suddenly gone, replaced by a harsh, ominous feeling. It was as if her very soul have been dunked in an icy stream; she glanced at Tamlen. "We should be careful. Didn't that _shemlen_ also say that a demon was here?"

He brushed aside her concerns with a shrug. "They were probably just scared off by their own shadows. There's no way we can turn back now."

Tamlen was right; the temptation was just too great to turn down. The life of the _Elvhenan_ was spent protecting the welfare of their Clan and collecting their ancient history. Ashara's life as First was especially devoted to reclaiming their past; she could no more turn down this opportunity than go live with the flat-ears.

Once they had cleared away the brush and plants, they realized that the entrance to the ruins was left open. If there was once a door here, it had long ago been destroyed. As the two of them cautiously stepped inside the ruins, they were accosted by the smell of stale dust and damp mold. Ashara looked around at the mossy walls and piles of rubble. Cobwebs were everywhere, and streams of light peeked in through cracks in the roof, setting strips of air alight with specks of dust.

"This is so strange," she mused, as her eyes became adjusted to the dark. "This place looks to have been built by humans." She walked over to one of the walls and wiped away dirt to reveal faded inscriptions. "But these markings are _Elvhen_." She bent down, trying to make out what the inscriptions meant, but like the statue, they were foreign to her.

"What's this?" Tamlen asked, sweeping away dust from a decaying statue.

She walked over to it, taking in the statue's square headdress and rusty copper wings. "This... looks like a statue of _Falon'Din_," she whispered incredulously. "There are drawings similar to it in one of the Keeper's old books."

"Why would a statue of the Creators be in a human ruin?"

"I have no idea. I've never heard of elves willingly living with humans." She looked around the dark room but couldn't see any other statues, or even markings to indicate where a statue might have once stood. "I don't understand this. Whoever built this place obviously knew of our Creators, but then where is _Dirthamen_?"

_Falon'Din _and his brother _Dirthamen_ were always together, the twin sons of _Mythal _and _Elgar'nan_. When invoking their names, one must always speak of them in the same breath, for it was well known that the twins cannot bear to be apart, even in thought. Statues of them should always be kept together, but Ashara could only see _Falon'Din_. Or had there once been a statue of _Dirthamen_, one that had simply been reduced to rubble after so long?

"The statue that the _shemlen_ had is either of _Andruil _or _Ghilan'nain_, and now a statue of _Falon'Din_ is here," Ashara said, thinking rapidly. "Is this a place of worship?" It didn't feel like one; it felt cold and painful.

"I thought our ancestors worshiped above ground?" Tamlen questioned.

Ashara hesitated. "I've been told that there are rumors of a race of elves different from our ancestors, who lived underground and worshiped the Forgotten Ones."

Tamlen stared at her. "Where did you hear that?" It made no sense for anyone to worship the Forgotten Ones; they were the gods of malice, hatred, and spite. No one in their right minds would pray to such gods.

Ashara shrugged. "The Keeper is the one who told me. But she said it's just a rumor, since we've never had any proof one way or the other." They didn't know much about the elves during the time of the glorious _Arlathan_. Most records of that time were destroyed by the Tevinter Imperium.

"Maybe we'll find something further in," Tamlen said. He started walking through a back door that led to a long corridor. With a great effort, Ashara tore her gaze from the statue of _Falon'Din_ and followed him.

Every inch of the crumbling corridor was covered with faded markings and pictures. They were obviously _Elvhen_, but Ashara had no idea as to what they could mean. She could speak what they knew of the old language, and she could read what little of the ancient writing they still knew, but these words and pictures were too faded to make out. Perhaps the Keeper would be able to decipher them.

As they made their way further into the crumbling ruins, Ashara's nervousness increased. This place felt... wrong, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly _what_ was wrong with it. It almost felt as though the entire area had been shrouded in pain and darkness.

As they turned a corner, they saw a large door at the end of the corridor, and bones scattered all across the floor. It looked like someone had taken a giant sack of them and just flung them everywhere.

"I wonder if this place is _setheneran_," Ashara said in a hushed tone. That would explain why she felt so uncomfortable here. She had never been in such a place before, and had no idea as to what it would feel like. The Keeper once said that some mages could feel places that were _setheneran_, but claimed that such a sensation was impossible to describe. She said that a mage would know it when they felt it.

"What does _setheneran_ mean?" Tamlen asked. Most of the Dalish could speak a few of the ancient _Elvhen_ words, but only mages were trained to speak their scattered language fluently.

"It's a place where the Veil to the Beyond is thin." He gave her a questioning look, so she continued. "Sometimes, when a large number of deaths occur, or a lot of magic is used in one place, the Veil is torn. Because of its weakened state, demons find it easier to slip into our world."

She studied the bones on the ground; if they were as old as the rest of this place, they should be dust by now. Instead, they were solid, almost as if the victims had died only recently. "Keeper Marethari said that the Tevinter Magisters that enslaved us would, at times, murder their slaves and use the blood to rip the Veil. But, unless this was a holy place that they were trying to desecrate, such a large number of deaths doesn't make sense here."

Tamlen pulled out his bow with an anxious look. "Maybe the _shemlen did _see a demon..."

As if in response, the bones suddenly began shaking and quivering. The two elves watched, horrified, as what looked like a leg bone began twitching towards another bone. Where they...? Oh dear _Mythal_ they were! The bones were inching towards one another, trying to piece together to form moving corpses!

Ashara screamed and, on impulse, raised her staff and summoned a storm of fire, engulfing the whole of the corridor in front of them in a blazing sea of flames. "Are they still moving?" she shouted, turning her face away and squeezing her eyes shut.

Tamlen's eyes began to water as he tried to look through the fire, but he could just make out enough. "I think they've stopped." He would have laughed at her expression, but the thought of bones knitting themselves together was terrifying.

Breathing heavily, Ashara pulled back on the flames, cutting off the energy and lowering her staff. Sure enough, the bones were reduced to nothing but black ash. "Bones... aren't... supposed... to move..." she gasped, her chest heaving up and down.

"They're dead now," Tamlen said, trying to reassure her. "Well, they're more dead than they were."

She shook her head firmly and turned wide eyes to him; her normally pale face looked almost sickly. It wasn't like Ashara to take a fear on a sudden whim. "I don't think we're safe here. Whatever caused those bones to move is the work of dark magic." Her grip on the staff tightened. "Maybe we should go back..."

"We've made it this far," he argued. Ashara had knowledge of magic, but he knew that they could handle whatever came against them. "And we're not helpless; you have your magic and I have my bow. Besides, if there's something dangerous in here we need to stop it."

Ashara hesitated. She didn't want to stay in this unnatural place, but Tamlen was right. It was their duty to make sure that this evil magic didn't get unleashed upon the Clan. Tamlen flashed her an encouraging grin and walked past the ashes to throw open the large door at the end of the corridor.

He let out a yelp of shock as he saw a giant bear-like thing standing in the large room. It turned its spiked head to him, and after a moment of silence, rushed towards him with a roar. Tamlen's response was quick; he flew past the monster, diving onto the body of a high placed, fallen down pillar to catch its attention while at a safe distance. The grotesque bear twisted and lunged, trying to reach the elf as Tamlen shot arrow after arrow into its rough hide. Ashara appeared at the door to the room, shooting bolts of ice at the monster.

When the bear finally saw that it wasn't going to catch Tamlen, it turned its attention to Ashara. With a blood-chilling roar, it began charging at her. She bit the inside of her cheek, willing herself to maintain her composure, while she cast a silver spell shield around herself to absorb the bear's attacks. Then, once she was protected, she raised her staff and began to murmur the spell for a lightning storm.

But Tamlen didn't see her protected by the spell shield; he didn't see anything but the bear, rushing towards the woman he loved. With a shout of anger, he dropped his bow and jumped off the pillar, reaching to his belt to pull out one of his daggers. He landed on the bear's back, somehow avoiding the mass of spikes, and slammed the dagger into its backbone, hearing the satisfying crunch as the blade made contact with bone. The bear screamed and reared to its hind legs, but Tamlen held on tightly, and with one hand managed to yank the dagger out and jam it into the back of the monster's neck.

With a shout of pain, the bear began swaying, and soon fell over. Tamlen rolled off its back and looked at Ashara, who lowered her staff and dissipated the spell shield.

Lightning flickered across the room, but it was slowly draining away. Ashara, unharmed, came over to Tamlen; he grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly, assuring himself that she was all right. She was a strong mage, he knew that, but the thought of that monster attacking her had terrified him.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Tamlen noticed that his arms were covered in blood. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He kicked the dead bear. "Do you know what this thing is?"

Ashara shook her head and looked around the room. Her eyes were drawn to a large, glittering mirror set on a raised platform. Tamlen followed the direction of her gaze and his eyes widened. Without a word, the two of them slowly walked up the stairs towards the mirror, as if drawn to it.

It was the most beautiful thing that Ashara had ever seen. The glass was a sparkling silvery blue, and was flanked by what looked like two statues of _Elvhen_ mages, thrusting their swords into the ground, as if to pay homage to the mirror. It was by far the most preserved thing in the entire building, and Ashara tried to read the inscriptions etched around the rim of the glass. She could make out the words _eluvian _and _vir_. Mirror and path? Was this mirror supposed to be a path to something, then?

Tamlen was entranced by the reflective surface. "Look how beautiful it is!" His voice was filled with awe.

He reached out a hand to touch it but Ashara suddenly straightened up and stopped him. "Be careful, Tamlen. This whole place is filled with dark magic; we don't know what this mirror can do."

Tamlen scoffed, never taking his eyes away from the glass, but then he let out a gasp. "Did you see that? Something inside the mirror moved!"

"Inside the mirror?" That wasn't good. "Tamlen, get away from it!"

"Hold on! I just want to see!" He pushed past her and reached a hand to the mirror, touching the beautiful reflective surface. Something inside the glass swirled as his hand made contact with it. "I can see... some kind of a city." He was enamored. "It's... underground..."

Despite her hesitancy, Ashara leaned over his shoulder to take a look at this city. But before she could make out any of the dark shapes swimming in the ripples of the glass, Tamlen began screaming. "It saw me! Help me, _vulpasha_! I can't look away!"

A bright ray of white blinded Ashara; her eyes watered and her vision blurred. She lifted her hands up, trying to shield her eyes from the blinding light, but it did no good. Before she even had time to react, to shout, or try to protect herself, she was floating on her back. Something large and dark swam over her, but she couldn't make out what it was.

_It is not yet time, young one._

An ethereal voice echoed through her mind. The power behind it was so great that it seared her soul until she felt her very spirit catch fire. It was agony unlike anything she had ever felt, yet the pain was not physical. She heard herself scream.

_When silver walks, when shadow moves, you will see._

Suddenly the figure was gone, and there was a rush of air beneath her, almost as if she was flying. Ashara felt a harsh crunch beneath her back, like all the bones in her body were snapping, and saw nothing but black before her eyes, a darkness pressing in around her until she choked. She blinked, gasping for breath, and the darkness was swept away. Bright light swirled around her, and sparks of greenery danced through her vision. Was this... outside? How did she get here? She couldn't make out any shapes; the very world seemed to circle around her. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and she heard someone muttering about shadows and silver.

Her knees slammed into the ground and she lost control over her arms and legs as a cry forced its way through her throat. Something hard hit the left side of her body, and as she fell onto her back she felt her head snap back, crashing into something solid.

"Can you hear me?" Something swam in front of her, but she couldn't see what it was. Tamlen? She tried to reach out a hand to the figure, but her arms refused to move. "I'm... so sorry." Pain forced its way through every pore in her body, and the warm arms of sleep beckoned to her. _Yes... sleep._ She succumbed to the silence.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Vunin'lath - literally means: Day of Love; Mating Day<br>da'len - child/children  
>emma'lath - my love<br>annar - year  
><em>sethenaran - a place where the Veil to the Beyond is thin<br>eluvian - though its often used to describe the enchanted mirrors, the word itself imply means 'mirror'  
>vir - path<em>_

_**A/N:** Chapter 3, and the dreaded Eluvian. _That battle with the bereskarn took me a while to write, b/c I'm not very good at explaining battles. Hopefully I did a decent job. Thought/suggestions on it would be greatly appreciated.  
><em>_

_I want to thank Auroraas and Shakespira for their awesome comments! Shakespira in particular was helpful b/c I started reading some of her stories and they provided some amazing insights on how to explore character depth, and made me look back on how I was going to portray the characters. Simply put, her writing is amazing._

_Thank you to those of you who are reading or requesting alerts!  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

_Creators, Tamlen, someone help me!_

Ashara woke up all at once, frantically gasping for breath as if she had come out of a terrifying dream. She sat up swiftly, fearfully, wincing as her temples throbbed in protest and felt nothing but pain in her entire body. She groaned at what felt like burning needles stabbing her arms and legs. Her lungs were on fire, her throat was dry and scratchy, and even her back ached. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest and she put a hand to her to breast to try and calm it, only to feel that her skin was flaming. She could tell that she had a fever.

Forcing herself to breath calmly, Ashara looked around, trying to ignore her body screaming with each movement, but could see nothing but darkness. There was something warm and dry in her lap; she reached a hand down and felt a soft blanket covering her legs. Had someone found her? Was she home?

Blinding light suddenly illuminated the area; Ashara let out a croak meant to be a yelp and covered her eyes against the harsh glare. "_Lethallan_!" She recognized the voice; it was familiar, but for the life of her she couldn't name who it was. "She's awake!" Someone was moving towards her and Ashara lowered her hands, blinking rapidly.

Her eyes began watering, but as the form slowly came into focus she saw Fenarel sitting back on his heels, beaming so widely that she could have counted his teeth if she wanted to. He twitched open the flap to her _aravel_ and tied it back so that sunlight should pierce the room.

"Am I... back at the camp?" she asked, her voice raspy.

Fenarel pressed a wooden cup into her hand. "Here, drink this. You'll feel better." She raised it to her lips and closed her eyes at the welcome feel of fresh cold water rushing down her burning throat. "You're in your _aravel_," he continued. "You've been lying like a stone for the past three days. We didn't know what was wrong with you; the Keeper had to use the old magic to try and heal you." He lowered his eyes. "We thought you were going to die."

Ashara could taste the tincture of healing herbs mixed into the water; with every sip her body ached less and her mind began to clear. She drained the contents of the cup, and suddenly her memories came back. She remembered a cave of ruins, and a mirror that had sparkled so enticingly. Tamlen had touched it... _Tamlen_!

She dropped the cup. "Where's Tamlen? Is he okay?"

She didn't think it was possible for Fenarel to smile any wider, but somehow he managed it. Before he had time to answer, she heard pounding feet outside and saw a shadow dive into her _aravel_. She didn't even have time to register anything before she felt someone grab her roughly and pull her into a tight embrace.

"Ashara!" Tamlen's voice was thick, and she felt something wet drop onto her shoulders. _Tears?_ Her body was still aching, but he didn't seem to care; his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her shoulder. "I thought you were dead," he mumbled into her hair, and his grip around her tightened. She was beginning to find it hard to breathe.

Fenarel coughed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "The Keeper wanted to see you when you woke up, Ashara." Tamlen wouldn't let her go, so she peeked around his shoulder to look at Fenarel, who grinned. "I'll tell her you're awake, so don't take too long in here." With a meaningful look, he slipped out of the _aravel._

Tamlen started laughing, but to Ashara it seemed as though he was close to sobbing. He was almost hysterical. "I thought you were dead."

"What happened?" She was confused by his reaction. All she could remember were the ruins, and that terrible monster within. Then the mirror, that had glittered so beautifully, beckoning them to come. She remembered Tamlen touching the mirror. Then... nothing.

"I don't know," he said, still buried in her hair. "I only know that a group of _shemlen_ found us and brought us back to the Clan."

"_Shemlen_ found us?" Ashara's confusion only deepened. What were _shemlen_ doing near the Clan? Were they from the village of those humans that she and Tamlen had killed? No, that didn't sound right. The villagers would not have brought them safely home.

But, before she could question him further, Tamlen suddenly pressed his lips against hers hungrily, not caring that the flap to her _aravel _was still open, that anyone walking by could see them. He gripped her hair and held her against him, almost afraid that she would disappear if he let her go. He had been so scared, so afraid that he had lost her; he needed to feel her, to assure himself that she was alive.

They both heard as soft crunch as someone approached the outside of the _aravel_, and Tamlen groaned, lifting himself up reluctantly. "The Keeper won't want to wait," he said, finding it hard to look away from her. He had woken out of his comatose state almost a full day ago, only to find that Ashara was still passed out, and that no one could give him any answers as to why she hadn't yet waken. For a full day he had stormed around the camp, convinced that it was his fault, that she would die because of his own idiocy. He wanted to hold her to him, to convince himself that she was fine.

But, the Keeper would want to ask her about the ruins. They had best not keep her waiting.

Tamlen pulled himself away and hurried out of the _aravel_ before he could be tempted further, with Ashara following behind him, still confused. Sure enough, the Keeper was standing calmly outside, patiently waiting for the two of them and discreetly looking in the opposite direction. She only turned her head when she heard Ashara and Tamlen exit the _aravel_.

"I am relieved to see that you are awake, _da'len_." Her voice and face were naturally calm; only her eyes reflected the joy she felt. "For a time we worried that both of you would perish; we must thank the Creators that neither of you were taken from us."

Ashara suddenly felt ashamed at having worried this woman who had been like a mother to her. Though she could not deny the temptation to discover some of their lost history, she had been foolish not to ask the Keeper for permission first. "_Emma ir'abelas_, Keeper," she whispered. "We should have come to you before we decided to inspect the ruins."

Marethari shook her head calmly. "You behaved as First, _da'len_. I have taught you of the importance of our history; I can not be angry that you acted as you did." She crossed her arms and frowned. "We searched your pack after you were brought back to us, to see if we could discover the cause of your illness, and we found the statue. It aroused my curiosity enough to understand why you acted as you did."

"Do you know what the statue is?" Ashara asked eagerly. Though the ruins had been dripping in evil, though the mirror had almost killed her and Tamlen, Ashara couldn't keep calm. She was alive, Tamlen was alive, that was all she cared about.

"I believe it is of _Ghilan'nain_." The Keeper spread her aged hands. "Some of the writing around the base seems to indicate that it is her, but it could also be of _Andruil_. I shall have to study it more."

"Did Tamlen tell you of the statue of _Falon'Din_ we discovered, and the monster and moving bones?"

The Keeper eyed Tamlen with her quiet gaze; Tamlen shifted nervously. "Tamlen did not do or say much, unless it was to shout curses at any who came near him. But, it matters not."

Ashara was about to ask what she meant, but before she got the chance Marethari gestured to a dark-skinned human who sat at one of the Clan fires. Ashara was surprised that she hadn't noticed him. Tamlen tensed as the _shemlen_ walked silently to them, but he kept quiet. The human approached them and bowed deeply, surprising Ashara by the gesture. He had an air of confidence that suggested he was used to being obeyed, but there was an honesty to his black eyes that Ashara had never before seen in a human.

"This is Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens," the Keeper said. "It is he and his men who found you wandering outside of the cave, Ashara. He sent his men further into the ruins, where they discovered Tamlen."

Ashara's eyes widened. A Grey Warden? She had heard of them before; they were an order of warriors that battled darkspawn. She knew, from her studies, that darkspawn were tainted creatures that lived underground. But why would a Grey Warden be here? They belonged in the Deep Roads, where darkspawn were known to live.

She realized that she was staring at him rudely and lowered her head, fighting the urge to scowl at bending her head to a _shemlen_. But, if the Keeper invited this human back to the camp, he was obviously worthy of some respect. And, apparently, he had saved her life. "_Ma serannas_, Duncan of the Grey Wardens." Next to her, Tamlen muttered his own thanks.

Duncan smiled, a warm smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes and crinkled his face. He looked like a man who had been through much, but the lines around his eyes suggested that he was accustomed to laughing. "I am glad to see that you both survived, though it is surprising that you are able to walk already."

"You never told us why you and your men were around the cave," Tamlen said suddenly, trying to keep his voice from sounding too harsh. He was grateful to this _shem _for saving his life, especially grateful for saving Ashara's life, but this stranger was still a human. Not to be trusted.

Duncan seemed to take no offense to Tamlen's hard tone. "We were on our way to Denerim. We are collecting recruits for the Grey Wardens; it was only by chance that we found you."

"Duncan and his men took Merrill and some of the hunters back to the cave, to search for the cause of your illness," Marethari said. That would explain why she didn't need Ashara to tell her what was in the cave; Merrill would have given the Keeper a full report of what was there. "They discovered the mirror, though the place has become overrun with darkspawn."

Ashara frowned; that made no sense. Unless led by an Archdemon, during a Blight, darkspawn almost never came to the surface.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Duncan tried to explain. "That mirror you and Tamlen found was from the Tevinter Imperium, used for communication. Over time, some of them break and become corrupted by the same taint as the darkspawn. It is what made you bot sick, and unleashed the darkspawn into the ruins."

Ashara's frown deepened; what Duncan said wasn't right. The mirror had had markings that looked to have been created in _Arlathan_, the statues around it were of _Elvhen _mages. It couldn't have come from the Imperium; the Magisters would never have decorated such a thing with marks of the _Elvhen_. The mirror had to have been created by the ancient elves.

Keeper Marethari saw that Ashara was growing confused and frustrated. The girl needed to get some food in her, to strengthen her body. She needed to spend the day relaxing and allowing her mind to settle. "Both of you should rest. Ashara needs to eat, and I assume that now Tamlen is able to relax." She raised an eyebrow at the young man, who wouldn't look at her. "We shall speak more this evening."

Though it looked as though they wanted to protest, the two elves reluctantly complied and walked over to the fires. Duncan watched them leave, before clearing his throat. "I wish to speak with you, Keeper."

Marethari indicated for him to continue, and he glanced around the camp to ensure that no one could hear them. His men were clustered near their own fire, nervously looking at the elves who watched them back with unveiled apprehension. "I believe that it is time for my men and me to move on, but before we do so, there is a matter you and I must discuss."

The Keeper was pleased to hear that Duncan realized it was time for he and his men to leave. The Clan tried their best to follow her order that the humans were to be treated with respect, and indeed, most of them felt that the _shemlen_ had earned a space in camp for rescuing two of their kinsmen, but they were still wary of a group of humans.

"I assume you know that both Ashara and Tamlen are still tainted," Duncan ventured quietly.

Marethari went very still, hiding her unease under a mask of serenity. "I can sense it in them both, beating through their blood with each pump of their hearts. The magic I used has only brought them out of their comatose states and healed their wounds."

"Can you tell me about them?"

The Keeper felt a deep warning stir in the depths of her mind. She had an idea of why Duncan was asking this question, and she didn't like it. But, she consented to answer. "They are young and energetic." She looked to the fire, where she could see that instead of eating, Ashara and Tamlen were talking enthusiastically to Fenarel and some of the other hunters. No doubt, they were explaining what had happened. Tamlen had refused to answer any questions when he woke, instead parading around the camp in a rage, cursing under his breath. His anger had been understandable, but Marethari had been forced to threaten him with confinement after he nearly punched Fenarel in the nose.

"Ashara is my First. She is a mage of exceptional skill, determined to protect our Clan, and knowledgeable of our history. She learns new spells quickly and has been blessed by _Sylaise_ for her gift with herbs." Marethari smiled fondly. "She can at times be difficult, but her heart is strong.

"Tamlen is our Clan's best hunter; he is training to one day take the position of Chief Hunter. His skill with the _bor'assan _is unrivaled, yet he can carry a sword and shield with ease as well. He is quick on his feet and clever in his attacks. He is temperamental and often speaks his mind, but he will do as he is told."

Duncan looked to the fire and watched the two elves thoughtfully. After a moment of silence, he sighed, as if reaching a difficult decision. "May I speak honestly, Keeper?" At Marethari's nod, he continued. "The Grey Wardens are in need of recruits; a Blight is upon the land."

The Keeper frowned. "I had sensed a stirring deep to the south. I knew not what it was, but I can feel a darkness whispering through the wind."

It was a welcome relief for Duncan to speak with someone who could sense the power of the darkspawn. More often than not, those he talked to were skeptical of the Blight's existence. "They are forming in the Korcari Wilds; my men have joined the king's army at the ruins of Ostagar, where we plan to stop them before they grow in number. Ashara and Tamlen are already tainted by the darkspawn; if they are not cured, they will slowly sicken and die." He paused. "I can cure them, but it means joining the Grey Wardens."

Marethari slowly closed her eyes; she had expected something like this, but it was not easy to hear. "You are asking for our Clan's future Keeper and Chief Hunter, two of our _da'len_ who will one day lead our Clan." Duncan was quiet, and she studied his face thoughtfully. "Tell me, would you offer this cure if you did not wish for them to join your order?"

"No. We desperately need Grey Wardens, and the Joining ritual is what will cure them. But to take that cure means to become a Grey Warden; I could not offer that to those who would not be worthy of the title."

The Keeper nodded, appreciative of his candor. "I know enough about your ritual to know that it is often fatal."

Duncan did not ask how she knew what was supposed to be a well-guarded secret. "It is true that they might die. However, without the ritual they will die for sure. Better that they should die now, than to be left alive to perish slowly from the taint." His eyes grew sympathetic. "I have seen what happens to those who are left with the taint; it is not a fate I would wish on anyone."

Marethari lifted her eyes silently to the sky, as if the bright sunlight filtering through the trees could offer her an answer. She heard the truth behind Duncan's words and sighed heavily. In her heart, she knew that there was no other option. She could not keep Ashara and Tamlen with their people if it meant their death. "It saddens my heart to send two of our _da'len_ out into the world, but I can see that you are correct." She glanced at the fire to look at the two elves. Their hands were clasped together, and they were whispering words to each other that no one else could hear. "We shall speak with them tonight."

oOo

Firelight danced across the faces of Duncan and the Keeper like angry ghosts predicting a dark future. Ashara and Tamlen stood before them, staring in disbelief while the human spoke. With each word, Ashara grew more and more frantic. Duncan was insane! There was no way that either she or Tamlen could ever leave their Clan!

She gripped tightly to her staff, fearfully wondering why the Keeper allowed this _shemlen_ to prattle on with his senseless ramblings. Every so often she threw a glance at her mentor, but Marethari's face was expressionless; there was no way to tell what she was thinking.

Tamlen crossed his arms and tossed his head furiously. "No! I refuse to leave our Clan!"

Ashara tried to hold herself steady as a First should, but she finally saw a flicker of emotion cross Marethari's face. She instantly knew that the Keeper, the most important woman in her life, was going to leg them go. Terror rose in her throat; she clutched tightly to her staff as if afraid she would fall. "_Ma din'isa ar'en vensina! Ira'elarla!_" The Keeper couldn't send them away! "It was a foolish mistake, Keeper! It doesn't deserve exile!"

Marethari held up her hands, seemingly unaffected by their outbursts. "This taint will kill both of you in time. Duncan offers you a way to cure yourselves."

"This is our Clan!" Tamlen balled his hands into fists, almost shaking in his anger. "We can't just abandon them to cure ourselves! I would rather die a Dalish than live amongst _shemlen_!"

"There is a Blight on the land," Duncan said, looking between the two of them. "By joining the Grey Wardens, you will be given a chance to heal yourselves and protect your Clan, for if the Blight is not stopped it will ravage the entire country. Even your people will not be able to outrun it."

Ashara never took her eyes off the Keeper. She barely even heard Duncan's words, convinced that this was a punishment for their actions in the ruins. "Is the Clan sending us away because we were foolish?" She could barely form the words. "We risked bringing the taint to the Clan; is that why you exiling us?"

"Never," Marethari said, so firmly that they had to believe her. "The Clan would not send you away for seeking to learn more of our history. If you remain with us, you will slowly die from this taint. I cannot allow that to happen."

"Is this Blight real, Keeper?" Tamlen asked. "Is it as serious as the _shemlen_ says?"

Marethari nodded solemnly. "Duncan speaks the truth, _da'len_. There is a storm upon the land that we cannot escape. If it is not stopped, we will all perish."

Ashara lowered her head; she knew that she was defeated. "Will Merrill be made First, then?"

The Keeper looked at her sadly. "Yes, _da'len_."

Tamlen grew very still, his blue eyes like chips of ice. Ashara bit the inside of her lip so hard she tasted blood, but she refused to allow herself to cry. She loved this Clan, had devoted her entire life to learning ways to protect her people and keep them safe. _But now we have to leave them?_ If a heart could break, her's would be shattered. These proud people who defied the _shemlen_ world were _her _people. They were her family; she loved them.

Marethari walked up to them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "If this is the path the Creators have set before you, meet your destines with your heads held high. No matter where you go, you are Dalish. Never forget that."

Ashara closed her eyes tightly and took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Very well." With those words, she knew that her life would be forever changed. Two simple words, to rip her from everything she had ever known. Beside her, she felt Tamlen nod curtly.

Duncan accepted their responses and bowed deeply. "I welcome you to the Order; you will both make fine Wardens." He glanced at the Keeper. "Now, we must take our leave. We have a long way to travel, and must get to Denerim as soon as possible."

"Can't we at least say good-bye to our Clan?" Tamlen demanded, his throat tightening at the thought of asking a _shemlen_ for permission for anything.

Duncan studied them both thoughtfully. "I cannot deny you that. We will stay with your Clan tonight, and leave first thing in the morning."

Marethari smiled sadly at the two young elves and guided them back to the fires, where the Clan sat around their meals, laughing and gossiping, unaware of the world changing around them. "Come them. Before the Creators guide you from us, let your Clan embrace you one last time."

Ashara found Tamlen's hand and gripped it tightly, drawing courage from his strength. One night, to say farewell to everything they had ever known, to leave their Clan and join a group of _shemlen_ in a world that hated them for who they were. As Marethari called the Clan together, Ashara felt her stomach coil itself into what felt like a million knots of fear. Who knew what would happen to them?

But, the Keeper was right; whatever happened in the future, whatever trials they were forced to endure, they would have to hold their heads up and do their Clan proud. They must carry their roots with them everywhere, for if she or Tamlen ever forgot who they were, they would lose themselves. _Mythal watch over us._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>da'len - childchildren  
>emma ir'abelas - I'm so sorry<br>ma serannas - thank you  
>bor'assan - bow<br>_Ghilan'nain - Goddess of the halla  
>Andruil - Goddess of the hunt<br>Falon'Din - Guide of the Dead  
>'Ma din'isa ar'en vensina! Ira'elarla!' - You can not send us away! This is our home!<em>_

__**A/N:** When I started writing this story, I wrestled with the idea of leaving Tamlen alive, or following canon and having him disappear. But he's got to be one of my favorite characters in the Bioware world, even though he doesn't play a big part. I've always thought it was weird that he just disappears and no one can find him. He obviously lived, as your Dalish encounters him again during their travels, and it broke my heart that he tells the Dalish Warden "I always loved you", and then you're forced to kill him. The first time I saw it happen, I was devastated. I've always thought that if they just pushed a little further and tried to find him, they would have. __

__Rant aside, Tamlen's presence will be very important later on in the story.  
><em>_

_I want to thank Legionary Prime and Shakespira for their comments. Shakespira especially has been a great help to me, offering advice and helping me to flesh out my characters._


	5. Chapter 5

It was the day of the two weddings, and Kali was a jumbled mess of nerves and twitches, jumping at the slightest thing. Nola had walked into the house to ask about the bridesmaids' dressed and startled Kali, causing her to shriek and fall out of a chair. Soris had clapped her on the shoulder cheerfully, making her yelp and spill the cup of water she had been holding. It was getting to be so bad that Shianni had offered to give her some ale, to calm her nerves.

But, alcohol wasn't going to calm her down, and they all knew it. By tomorrow morning, everything would be different. Kali would be wife to a stranger, and Jandar would be married to another woman. There would be no more glimmer of hope, slim through it may have been. They could never be together. She wanted to pitch herself on her bed and sob all through the day, but she bit back her tears. Crying wouldn't do any good.

Kali was sitting at the small table, staring down at her hands and willing them to be still while Father and Shianni sat opposite of her. They had been speaking at length about the wedding itself. How the ceremony would go, where she was supposed to stand, what words would be said, all the things that Kali should know. Elven weddings were extremely simple; all that was required was the exchange of rings, the spoke words, and the blessing. Kali just had to show up in her dress.

She almost wished for a day full of bustling activities, something to take her mind off of everything. Instead, there was nothing to do until about an hour before the wedding, so Kali got to spend the day nervously waiting. It felt like torture.

"And I've been informed that Bann Vaughan will most likely make an appearance," Father sighed, and Kali's head snapped up in fear. "I had hoped that he wouldn't care about our ceremonies, but Valendrian told me to expect him."

"Will he watch the ceremony, or will he cause problems?" Shianni asked hesitantly. It was well known that Bann Vaughan, the son of the Arl of Denerim, was a brutal man with a weak spot for girls. Specifically, elven girls. More than once he had come to the Alienage with a group of cronies, only leaving after they had gathered three or four sobbing women. But, no one could refuse him. He was their lord; their lives were in his hands. He could order death for them on a whim, and no one could fight it. Even Shianni was afraid of him; Kali was absolutely petrified of the man.

Father tapped his thumb against the table. "I don't know, but there's nothing we can do about it." He looked up and saw Kali's eyes widened in alarm, and managed a small smile. "There's no reason for you to worry about it. Today is your day; if Vaughan shows up we'll let Valendrian deal with him. For now, why don't you and Shianni go and get some fresh air?"

As Kali slowly stood up, Father watched her hesitantly. "Oh, there is one more thing. All that stuff your mother taught you–the knife work, swordplay, and whatever else she trained you in–let's not mention it to Nelaros."

Kali lowered her eyes. Before getting married, Mama had been a highly accomplished rogue, known throughout the underbelly of Denerim as one of the best thieves in the city. She had been wild, defiant, and a mischievous troublemaker, but after marrying Father, she had set aside the life of crime, claiming that she wanted nothing more than a simple life with the man she loved.

As Kali grew older, however, Mama couldn't resist the urge to teach her young daughter some of her skills. She began taking Kali out to the back alley behind the apartments, and taught her how to kick, punch, disarm a man larger than her, and how to wield daggers.

No child could have been more different from her mother, for Kali was horrified at the thought of fighting. Even as a girl, she had protested against the thought of violence. But Mama claimed that it was good for a woman to know how to defend herself. There were all manners of men in the world, men who would not hesitate to shame a woman. She wanted to know that her daughter could protect herself.

So, despite her misgivings, to this day Kali continued to practice what Mama had taught her. It was the one thing she had gifted Kali with before she died; Kali couldn't let that memory go.

"Won't he know soon enough?" she ventured quietly. She had never kept her training a secret from her family, though Father disapproved of it, and she didn't plan to keep it a secret from Nelaros. If he was as good a man as everyone said he was, he would understand a girl's desire to keep her mother's memory alive.

Father held his hands up. "Let's just give him a chance to get to know you first. We don't want him to think we're a bunch of troublemakers." It was a hanging offense for any elf to be caught with a weapon.

Kali ducked her head, agreeing to this like she did everything else. Shianni stood up with a smile. "Come on, Kali, let's get you outside to calm your nerves."

The two girls left the small house, and once outside, Kali blinked rapidly at the bright sunlight. She looked around the Alienage and found herself wondering how her view of the world would change after tonight. Tomorrow morning, she would no longer be a virgin. She clenched her hands together, trying to stop them from shaking. It was something that every woman must go through, but she wished so badly that Mama could have been there. To give her advice, to tell her what to do, or what to expect.

Shianni had a tight grip on her arm and was steering her towards one of the corner houses near the center of the Alienage. Kali slowly came out of her thoughts and realized where they were going; she immediately dug her heels into the ground. Shianni was taking her to Alarith's shop, where Nelaros was staying until the wedding.

"Shianni, what are you doing?"

Her cousin continued to pull her down the path, marching her towards the shop. "Didn't you say that you wanted to meet Nelaros before the wedding?"

"But Father said he didn't want me to meet him!" Kali's heart plummeted into her stomach; it was too soon, too sudden.

"I convinced him to change his mind," Shianni lied easily. Uncle Cyrion had pulled her aside last night and said that after thinking over the situation, he had come to the conclusion that it might be better for Kali to meet Nelaros before the wedding. He was afraid his daughter might faint on the platform if she wasn't fully prepared.

Despite Kali's continued protests, Shianni pulled her across the Alienage and into the shop. It was closed in honor of the wedding, but the door was unlocked and Kali's fiery cousin marched them both in. Alarith was behind the counter, setting up some of his new stock, but at the sound of the door opening he turned around.

"Well hi, you two!" It only took one look at Shianni's determined expression and Kali's pale face, and he knew instantly what was going on. He laughed. "Let me guess: you're here for Nelaros, right?"

Shianni nodded. "Uncle Cyrion thought it might be a good idea for the blushing bride to meet her anxious groom."

Alarith grinned. "I think he's pacing around upstairs; I'll go get him." The shop was one of the only houses in the Alienage that had two floors, and occasionally served as an inn of sorts.

Soon he returned, smiling like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "He's coming." He gestured for Shianni to follow him. "Come on, let's give the two of them some privacy." Shianni tossed her cousin a wink before following Alarith to the back room, while Kali gaped nervously at the young man now walking down the stairs.

Father hadn't lied; Nelaros was indeed a handsome man. He didn't have Jandar's exotic good looks, but his soft green eyes were kind, and as he nervously ran a hand through his light brown hair, Kali saw that he was a built like a man accustomed to hard work.

They stared at each other silently for a few moments. Finally, Nelaros cleared his throat and shifted nervously. "So... um, you're Kali?" Even his voice was gentle; it wasn't passionate and energetic like Jandar's.

She dipped her head and bit her bottom lip, too nervous to say anything. After today, this man would be her husband. He would have total power over her.

Another awkward silence settled over them. "You're much prettier than your father said," Nelaros continued; he sounded anxious. Kali opened her mouth to speak but closed it again; she seemed unable to say anything. She should greet him, or at least thank him for the compliment, but found that her throat was tightening.

Nelaros slowly reached out and grasped her hand lightly. Kali flinched at the contact, but didn't pull away as he ran a thumb over he knuckled. He held her hand, silently, until after a time she was forced to raise her head and looked up at him; he was smiling.

"I want you to know that I will spend every minute of my life trying to make you happy. All I ask is that you give me a chance." His eyes were earnest, and as he studied her face it seemed as though he understood exactly why Kali was unable to say anything.

She knew that he was waiting for a response, and swallowed a lump in her throat. "Th-thank you," she whispered, feeling like an idiot. But Nelaros seemed to expect her words; his smile widened.

Shianni suddenly appeared from the back room; Kali suspected that she and Alarith had been spying on the two of them. "We should be leaving soon, Kali. We've got a lot to do today."

Nelaros raised Kali's hand to his lips. "Until this evening, then." He nodded politely to Shianni, and as the two women left the shop, Kali could feel his eyes on her back.

Once outside, Shianni rounded on Kali with an exuberant smile. "He's even more handsome than Uncle Cyrion said! And did you see the way he kissed your hand? He's so polite! He'll be such a good husband!" The two of them walked to the _Vhenadahl_, to see the platform where the wedding was to take place, while Shianni continued to praise everything about Nelaros.

Kali's thoughts were racing through her mind; she could barely hear her cousin chatting up a storm. Nelaros was kind. Even though she had barely seen him for five minutes, she could see that he would keep to his word, and try to be a good husband to her. She should be grateful; she should be thanking the Maker at her good fortune. But, all she could think about was that she wished it was Jandar.

When they reached the tree, Shianni suddenly stopped mid-sentence, and Kali found herself staring, the scene in front of her banishing all thoughts of either Jandar or Nelaros.

There, standing by the _Vhenadahl_, was a dark-skinned human talking casually with _Hahren _Valendrian. Humans rarely came to the village; what was he doing here? But what was even more astonishing, was that the human was standing next to two elves who stood out amongst the Alienage almost as much as he did.

It wasn't so much that the humans had elves with him; nobles often brought their servants with them when they stepped out of their luxurious homes. What was confusing, was that Kali had the thought that these elves didn't belong to anyone. They were gorgeous, and had a wild and defiant look about them. The woman had such white skin, and inky black hair that tumbled to her mid-back in soft tendrils. She looked like a beautiful painting come to life; if not for the long skirt swirling around her legs, Kali might have thought she was a statue. She was gripping tightly to a dark wooden staff, with curious trinkets tied at the top. Was she a mage from the Tower?

In contrast to her, the man's hair was a dark gold, and his tanned skin seemed to glow under the sunlight. He had a tattoo that traveled down his forehead and swirled in spirals over his sandy brows. Kali had never before seen such tattoos on someone; the effect should make him look barbaric, but there was a sort of exotic beauty to the design. What was even more strange, was that he carried a large bow against his back, and made no attempt to hide it. Why hadn't the guards arrested him?

The group turned as she and Shianni approached and Valendrian smiled, though Kali thought that he looked a bit wary. "Ah, hello girls. Enjoying some free time before the wedding?" He gestured to the dark-skinned human. "Allow me to introduce Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden." He glanced at the two strange elves. "I'm sorry, but I haven't yet learned your names."

The young woman tossed her long black hair and eyed Valendrian with dark violet eyes. Kali had never before seen such a color on someone. "You may call me Ashara." She inclined her head to the strange man. "This is Tamlen."

"They are two new recruits for the Grey Wardens," Duncan said. "They joined us about four days ago, as we made our way to Denerim."

"What Alienage are you from?" Shianni asked, her eyes wide. It seemed she was just as captivated by them as Kali was.

The man, Tamlen, shifted his eyes eyes to Shianni but remained silent; he looked angry. Ashara lifted her chin and looked down her nose. Kali noticed for the first time that she had a tattoo as well, a swirling cluster of vines and leaves twining around her neck. "We are not from any Alienage," she said haughtily. She had a lyrical voice that would have been soothing, had it not been so impatient. "We are Dalish, part of the _Elvhenan_ who keep our history alive."

"Dalish?" Kali heard herself exclaim. The two of them turned their strange eyes to look at her as if for the first time; Kali shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. "W-we thought that the Dalish were a myth, that they didn't exist."

The man scoffed irritably, but the woman watched Kali thoughtfully, as if studying her for a portrait. "Perhaps if you did, more of you would seek to escape your enslavement here, to join us. We do not bow to _shemlen_."

Duncan stepped forward with a look on his face that suggested that he was used to interrupting this woman's scathing remarks. He looked at Kali. "You are Adaia's daughter, correct?"

Kali's eyes widened. "You knew my mother?" She knew that Mama had made many friends, and enemies, among the humans because of the life she had led, but Kali had never heard her mention a Grey Warden. In fact, Kali didn't even really know what a Grey Warden was.

Duncan smiled. "I did. I remember her as a skilled woman with daggers, quite an excellent fighter. I believe she taught you her skills, correct?" Kali noticed the Dalish woman studying her with renewed interest.

"Before she died," Kali mumbled quietly. But she didn't like to speak of her mother, so she quickly changed the subject. "May I ask, what are Grey Wardens?"

Duncan's smile reached all the way to his black eyes. He seemed pleased at her question. "We are an order of warriors that battle the darkspawn."

"I thought darkspawn lived underground," Shianni said. "What are you doing here?"

"I am looking for new recruits. We found a promising recruit in the markets." Duncan laughed. "A quick man who tried to cut my purse. I had my men take him out of the city, to avoid further problems, and thought I'd stop and green my old friend here." He threw the Elder a look that seemed to carry a thousand different meanings; Valendrian swiftly moved in front of Shianni and Kali.

"Leave me to speak with Duncan; I'm sure you two have plenty to do." Shianni started to protest, but Valendrian waved them off. In the end, they had no choice but to leave.

As they walked back to their house, Shianni was almost speechless. Almost. "Did you see those two elves?" she demanded, as if Kali had somehow missed their presence. "I've never seen such tattoos, and those clothes! That guy, Tamlen, was attractive, wasn't he?" She winked at Kali, but then furrowed her brows. "But that woman was kind of a bitch, acting all high and mighty. So what if they're Dalish? We might have to live with _shemlen_ but at least we know better than to squat around in the dirt and bathe in rivers."

Kali remained silent while Shianni kept talking. She thought that the two Dalish had been fascinating, but as she opened the door to her house her mind turned to far better worries than whether or not the girl had been rude. In just a few short hours, she would be married. Her new life would begin, and any hope that things might change, that she could be with Jandar, would be gone.

oOo

Kali stood nervously on the decorated platform, wishing with all her might that today could just be over. She was next to Nelaros, who watched her out of the corners of his eyes, but her attention drifted to Jandar, standing only a few feet away from her. He kept looking at Kali with pain visible across his face, and every once in a while he would throw Nelaros a threatening glare, a glare that Nelaros tried to ignore.

Behind her she felt Shianni shift, uncomfortable at having to stand so still. She knew that her cousin was eager for the wedding to be done, so she could get to the drinking.

A small crowd began to gather; Kali tried to find something to distract herself, to keep her mind off everyone staring at her, and noticed Duncan standing at the back of the crowd with the two Dalish elves. The male elf was glaring at the sky, almost as if he wished himself elsewhere, but the woman returned Kali's gaze with sharp curiosity. Kali found herself wondering what it was that made them so angry.

A collective gasp went up from the crowd, and Kali forgot all about the Dalish elves. Her eyes were drawn to a strange woman, dressed in white and making her way to the platform, followed closely by Nola. _This must be Nesiara._ With a sinking heart, Kali saw that she was a real beauty. Her long, glossy auburn hair was swept away from her soft features, but thick ringlets had escaped to frame her high cheekbones and full lips. Her bright blue eyes were teary with emotion, and her smile was positively dazzling.

Jandar tried to ignore the woman walking towards him, instead watching Kali out of the corners of his eyes. But when his betrothed finally reached the platform, he was forced to turn to her.

"Jandar!" Nesiara squealed happily. Kali felt cold inside. _Maker, even her voice is beautiful._ Nesiara grabbed Jandar's hands, her features lighting up. "We will be so happy together!"

Kali forced herself to turn away and found herself meeting Nelaros' gentle eyes. He reached down to take her cold hand in his own. "I promise; everything will be okay." Kali felt a fresh wave of guilt overwhelm her. This man was kind, and all she could do was compare him to Jandar.

Valendrian stepped up to the platform, followed by one of the Chantry mothers. He turned to the crowd and waited for everyone to settle down, before lifting his arms.

"Friends and family; today we celebrate the joining of these two young couples." He gestured to the four of them, and Kali couldn't help but notice Nesiara clinging happily to Jandar's arm. Jandar shifted his eyes to meet hers, but there was nothing either of them could do. Kali bit her bottom lip. She must not cry.

"Yet today we also celebrate the bonds of kin and kind," Valendrian continued. "We are a free people, but that was not always so. Andraste, the Maker's prophet, freed us from the bonds of slavery. As our community grows, remember always that our strength lies in our commitment to tradition, and to each other."

Valendrian stepped to the side and bowed deeply as the Mother Boann took his place. She turned to the two couples and raised her hands in a blessing. "Faithful servants of the Maker, today we take witness to the deep bonds of love that–"

Kali heard an army of boots stomping on the ground, and shouts as people in the crowd were pushed aside. Mother Boann halted her words and turned; they all watched Bann Vaughan step up to the platform, with two of his men walking faithfully behind him. Father was right; he had indeed decided to make an appearance. Kali's heart almost stopped in fear. Maker only knew what he wanted.

"Hello, Mother." Vaughan bowed slightly to Mother Boann, but his eyes strayed to Kali and Nesiara, and Shianni and Nola behind them. Kali felt as though her blood was frozen in her veins. "We heard there was a wedding, and thought we'd join in the celebrations!"

Mother Boann hesitated. "My lord, this... is a surprise."

Vaughan stepped up to Nesiara and smiled down at her. She backed away and clutched fearfully onto Jandar's arm; Jandar pulled her behind him, trying to keep her from view. Vaughan laughed and glanced back at Mother Boann. "We're sorely in need of female guests. A celebration must have its women!"

"My lord, this is a wedding!" Mother Boann protested sharply.

But Vaughan continued to laugh. His view of the elves was well known; he thought of them as less than the dirt he walked upon. "If you want to dress up these animals and parade them around, that is your business. But don't pretend that this is a proper wedding."

Everything seemed to happen so fast after that. One of Vaughan's men grabbed Shianni; she shouted and kicked her feet out. The other clutched Nola and Nesiara on their arms; the two women were sobbing and trying to pull away. Kali heard Jandar shouting something, but suddenly he was on the ground, blood falling from his nose. She wasn't quite sure how he got there.

Kali's blood was ice; she felt herself shaking as Vaughan turned his gaze to her. He stepped closer and brushed a clammy hand over her cheek. She flinched and tried to move away from him. Dimly, she heard Nelaros yelling something, and heard herself begging Vaughan to just leave everyone alone. _Take me, do what you want with me! Just don't take Shianni! Don't take the others! _

She saw Vaughan's hand swinging towards her out of the corner of her eye; the last thing she remembered was a hissing pain across her face, as her eyes watered and everything went black.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>vhenadahl - literally: the tree of the people; every alienage has one, to remind them of where they came from<br>hahren - it's the word for elder, but the alienage elves use it as a title, to refer to the elder who is unofficially in charge_

_**A/N:** This chapter took me a while to write, simply b/c of all the information I tried to get in. I was afraid it would sound too rushed, so I cut out the first part of Vaughan showing up, hoping to make the chapter flow decently. It's also the first time that Ashara and Kali meet, and I tried to show how arrogant and snarky Ashara seems to the city elves, who tend to think that the Dalish are savages. But from Ashara's pov, the flat-ears have turned their backs on their rich history and let humans treat them badly. _

_I want to thank Legionary Prime, lithigia, Shakespira, Auroraas, and swartzvald for the reviews. You guys are awesome! Also, thanks to those of you who either added this to your favorite stories or requested alerts.  
><em>


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: **This chapter deals with the subject of rape. If you don't care for such a thing, you might wish to skip this chapter

* * *

><p>The filthy place that these flat-ears called home was in an uproar after the <em>shemlen<em> lord disappeared with the four women. _No,_ Ashara corrected herself, _it was a kidnap that was allowed._

_One moment, four of their young ones were celebrating their ___Vunin'lath___, preparing to be bonded, the next a ___shemlen___ was marching onto the platform. He beat two of the elves, one of them a young woman who could not defend herself, and then dragged the women off. No one did anything to stop him. _

_Ashara and Tamlen had watched, dumbstruck, as all these flat-ears just bowed their heads while the women were led away from them. How could they just stand by? They all knew the shame that would be inflicted upon those girls!_

_When it happened, Ashara had raised her staff angrily, ready to send out a wave of energy to knock these horrid ___shemlen___ off of their feet. But, before she could do so, Duncan had put a hand out to her and shaken his head. Apparently, Grey Wardens could not get involved in such things._

But, now that the _shemlen_ were gone, the Alienage had erupted into a storm of indignant shouting and helpless sobbing. Apparently, the silence had only been for the benefit of the humans, because now it seemed that everyone had a different thought about what had happened. And whatever thought it was that each person had, they were expressing it loudly. In the middle of it all stood their _hahren_, the one called Valendrian, begging for peace.

Ashara raised an eyebrow at Tamlen, who returned her gaze with a look that hinted at his outrage. She understood his feelings, for they were her own; it was almost incredible to think that these elves were behaving as they did. Didn't they have any pride? _Mythal _herself could not protect the _shemlen_ that stole a Dalish woman.

Ashara cursed under her breath. Humans had done the same thing to her Clan when they stole little Tianna. But the _Elvhenan_ were not without spines; they did not behave like these weak flat-ears. Though the Clan could not save Tianna, they took swift action. They burned the _shemlen_ village to the ground and destroyed the humans' faces so that heir Maker could not recognize them. If their false god could not recognize them, he could not take them to whatever resting place _shemlen _had.

But here... these flat-ears had just allowed their women to be stolen from them! One of the girls, a tiny, light-haired girl, had even been unconscious. One of the men had slung her little body over his shoulder like a dead animal brought back for a feast. _Perhaps it is better that she not wake until the horror is over._

Ashara looked over the wave of flat-ears shouting and crying, and felt nothing but disgust. They might be cousins to her people, but they had lost the powerful _Elvhenan_ blood that had once coursed through their veins. Their ancestors had died to fight for their freedom and history, and they threw those sacrifices away on the whim of a _shemlen_. It was repulsive.

She and Tamlen watched as the _hahren_ of these uncertain flat-ears finally managed to calm everyone down. He held his hands up, a pleading look on his face. "Please! I know that we are angry at this injustice that we have been forced to endure. But we must remember: Bann Vaughan is our lord, the son of Denerim's Arl. We cannot fight him! The only thing we can do is pray to the Maker for the safe return of our daughters."

This was their leader? A man too scared to protect his kin? Ashara's temper, always hard to control, bubbled to the surface; she slammed her staff to the ground impatiently. Sparks of energy flickered from her free hand but she balled it into a fist to keep the energy at bay. "You're just going to accept this?" All eyes turned to her and her voice rose with indignation. "Your daughters were stolen by a _shemlen_, and you can have no doubts as to what he intends to do with them. Your solution is to sit back and _hope _they come home safe? _This _is how you protect your women?"

A dark-haired man stepped forward from the crowd. "No!" Ashara saw blood drying around his nose and recognized him as one of the grooms. "We're going to get them back!"

"And what do you plan to do, Jandar?" Valendrian asked calmly, as if speaking to a petulant child. Ashara fought back an unkind urge to set the old man's hair on fire. _It would only take a second to charge the spell. It won't even drain my energy much._ "Vaughan's not going to just give them up, we can hardly storm the estate, and there is no one we can appeal to. What do you suggest?"

"M... maybe we just wait and see what happens?" a red haired man ventured hesitantly. "If we break into the estate, Bann Vaughan will see us hung!"

"What an admirable mate that one will be," Tamlen muttered under his breath. Ashara knew what he was thinking; a Dalish man would die before he let his mate be taken against her will.

A pale man that Ashara recognized as the second groom stormed forward. "How can you say that, Soris? Vaughan has your sister and your cousin!" He shook his head violently. "No, we can't wait. We have to get them out of there!" _Well, perhaps not all of these flat-ears are beyond saving. At least two men are willing to behave as men should. _

Valendrian studied the second groom. "Do _you_ have an idea then, Nelaros?" Ashara wanted to smack him, to just hit him upside the head with her staff. Would these flat-ears even mind? It wasn't like he was worthy of the respectful title of _hahren_.

The one named Jandar purposely strode through the crowd, shoving people out of his way, until he stood before Duncan. "You are an armed warrior, a Grey Warden." His eyes flicked to Ashara and Tamlen. "Even you two are carrying weapons; will you help us save the women?"

Ashara looked at Duncan, eagerly hoping that he would agree. She would love nothing better than to storm the human lord's home, slaughtering everyone inside for their attack upon the _Elvhen_. These _shemlen_ were no different from any other she had had the misfortune to encounter. Duncan was, perhaps, the only exception. But even he was annoying, always prattling on about the Blight. She trusted the Keeper, and acknowledged that the Blight was a true threat, but did he really need to speak of it so often?

"We cannot help you invade the estate," Duncan said. Ashara could hear real regret in his voice. "Grey Wardens cannot get involved in matters like this." Ashara shook her head, remembering all the rules she had heard on their trip to Denerim.

"Grey Wardens focus on the darkspawn alone; we do not get involved in political matters," Duncan had recited over and over, until Ashara started hearing his words in what little sleep she managed to catch.

"The Grey Wardens protect people!" Jandar exclaimed.

_Against darkspawn only, it seems_. Very little of it made much sense to Ashara, but then, so did most of the human world.

Duncan shook his head. "I am sorry." When Jandar opened his mouth to argue more, Duncan held his hand up. "We cannot help you, but we will do what we can."

He unhooked the longsword–a poor quality of ones made by Master Ilen–from the scabbard on his back and handed it to Jandar. "Use this," he said, before pulling out two daggers from the belt around his waist. "And these."

Nelaros stepped forward and looked at Jandar. "I'll come with you." Jandar stiffened; it was obvious that there was bad blood between the two men, but he would be a fool to refuse help on such a task. After a tense silence, he nodded sharply. Not such a fool after all.

But this second man had no weapons, and it didn't seem as though he knew what to do. Duncan had nothing more to give them, and Ashara could not hand over her staff. Only mages could pull power from it. Before anyone could decide what they should do, Tamlen slipped the bow from his shoulder and unhooked the quiver of arrows at his back, and shoved them into the man's hands.

"Make sure I get these back _exactly _as they are," he warned. He met Ashara's eyes and shrugged as if he didn't care what happened, but she knew better than to believe him. That bow was made for him by his father before he died; Tamlen wouldn't just hand something like that over to a stranger, unless he felt it was important.

Nelaros held the bow hesitantly. "I... don't really know how to use a bow."

Tamlen scowled at him. "Then you had better learn quickly."

oOo

Kali heard someone groaning in pain as she gradually regained her senses. There was a cold, hard surface underneath her, pressing roughly into her back. Her head was throbbing, she could feel an ache in her neck and shoulders. The right side of her face tingled, as if about to go numb. She slowly opened her eyes, wincing as she tried to move, and saw Shianni staring down at her.

"You're awake! Thank the Maker!" her cousin exclaimed.

"Wh... what happened?" Kali's voice was harsh; she sat up and rubbed the back of her head, glancing around as she tried to figure out where they were. It looked like some kind of dungeon. The place was damp and cold, with a rancid smell wafting in the air that made her feel sick.

She saw Nesiara and Nola huddled together on the ground like two frightened cats. Nola was praying, her eyes squeezed shut as she begged the Maker to save them, and Nesiara rocked back and forth with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

"The Arl's son kidnapped us!" Nesiara sobbed.

"His men dumped us here and said to wait until that bastard is ready for us," Shianni hissed.

Terror rose in the pit of Kali's stomach as she remembered the wedding, and Vaughan's appearance. If he had taken them back to his estate, it could only be for one purpose. "We need to find a way out of here!"

"Oh? And just how are we supposed to do that?" Nesiara's voice was rising to a hysterical cry. "We're four, unarmed women, locked in a dungeon with no hope!"

What other choice did they have? To just allow the humans to... do what they wanted to do? No, that couldn't happen.

Nola interrupted her prayers and looked up at Kali with haunted eyes. "Nesiara's right; there's no way we can fight them. We'll just... do what they want, and then go home. It... it'll be worse if we fight." Her shoulders were slumped in defeat.

Shianni stomped her foot angrily. "It'll be worse if we don't! You do know what they want to do to us, don't you?" Nola wouldn't look at her. "I'm not going to let that happen!"

The door to the cell was suddenly thrust open and four guards walked in, each of them leering at the women in a way that made Kali's skin crawl. " 'Ello ladies, we're your escorts to Lord Vaughan's little party," the leader sneered.

Kali didn't know what to do. They had to get out of there, but she couldn't seem to focus on any thought or idea. The one in charge gestured to his men. "You, take that little one cowering in the corner. Horace, take the lovely bride there. I'll take the red head." He glanced at the last guard, and then his eyes came to rest on Kali's face. "You take this last one."

Laughing, the guards came forward and grabbed the women. Nesiara and Nola didn't even bother to fight; they just lowered their heads and started crying. But Shianni didn't make it easy. She kicked her legs out and started screaming, but the leader managed to grab her by her arms, twisting them so hard that Shianni cried out in pain.

As the women were dragged from the room, the last guard inched closer to Kali with a disgusting sneer on his face. She stepped away from him slowly, desperately trying to find a way out, until she felt her back come in contact with the wall. Panic was rising through her body; she knew where this man was going to take her. She knew exactly what Vaughan was going to do to her.

She tried to focus, to find a way out, but she couldn't pull her eyes from the man leering at her. _Mama, what do I do? _She knew exactly what Mama had chosen; Adaia had fought, until the guards had been forced to kill her. Mama had chosen death over rape.

If Kali was the only one there, she might have chosen the same thing. Wasn't death preferable to being taken against your will, having the shell of safety split around you? But, she could hear her cousin screaming in the hallway as they dragged her to Vaughan's room. The thought of Shianni, who was as close as a sister, lying under Vaughan's sweaty form and crying out for someone to help her, was enough to break Kali's heart. She couldn't think of just herself.

It almost felt like time started to slow down, as the guard reached out to her. She flinched as his metallic hand brushed her cheek; he was enjoying her terror. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she did nothing to halt them. She found herself begging him to leave her alone, pleading pitifully without any thought to pride or dignity. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest; she could almost hear blood rushing in her ears.

The man laughed and put his hands against the wall on either side of her head, trapping her in place. There was no escape. _Please, someone stop him. Don't let him take me! _"Oh, I think Lord Vaughan's going to have a lot of fun with you." She could feel his moist breath on her cheek.

Mama once said that even the most docile of animals will fight back if forced into a corner. The instinct of fight or flight rises, and if there is no escape, then the animal will attack. Maybe it was true, for when Kali realized that she had no way out, that this man was going to take her no matter what she said or did, she went with the only option left to her.

There was only about a foot of space between her and the guard, but it was all she needed. For the first time in her life, she felt a burning sense of rage wash over her. Heat crept up her chest, her arms, and even her face grew red. She had been angry before; she had been scared and hurt before, but never had she felt such outrage. This guard was going to drag her to a man that would force her against her will; Vaughan was going to shame her and Shianni without any feeling or remorse.

So, she did the only thing she could think of. She was unarmed, in a thin wedding dress with no protection against weapons of any kind. There was only one way out; she lifted her foot and slammed it into the guard's kneecap, where his plate armor was divided, leaving a small vulnerable spot. Such was the force of her kick, that when her foot made contact, she heard a sickening crunch as his bone shattered.

The man screamed in pain–a blood-chilling shriek that she had never before heard anyone make–and fell to the ground, clutching onto his leg. His body pressed against her legs as he wailed and cried and thrashed about. Kali knew that she should leave, she should take this opportunity to save Shianni and the others, but it was almost as if she was rooted to the spot. She just watched the guard, horrified at what she had done.

Finally, after it seemed like hours had passed, she somehow managed to force her legs to work and darted from the room, where she collided into Nelaros.

"Kali!" He gripped her arms tightly and pulled her into a rough embrace. Kali jerked away from his grasp, her eyes wide. She could hear the screams of the guard echoing out of the chamber; it was a wonder that no one else had discovered them yet.

"H-how did you get here?" she asked shakily. They had to get to Shianni and the others before Vaughan got his hands on them.

"That Grey Warden gave Jandar and me weapons, and we came to get you guys out." She could see that he was clutching nervously onto a bow. He reached the deep pockets of his tunic and pulled out two daggers; he handed them to Kali. She gripped them tightly, getting a strange comfort from the feel of the cold metal in her hands. It was almost as if Mama was there with her.

Nelaros' words slowly sank in and Kali's head snapped up. "Jandar? Where is he?"

Nelaros stiffened but answered her question. "He's at the end of the hall, making sure that no one else comes in. We've killed the guards already."

Kali stepped back and really looked at him, noticing for the first time that blood was showered everywhere on him. It was crusted in his hair, smeared on his cheeks, and splattered across his wedding clothes. How many men had he killed?

She shook her head. Now was not the time to ask how many were dead; they had to get Shianni out of here. "Did you see the other women?"

"We heard the guards take them into a room at the end of the hall, but we had to get past three guards, and then we heard you... in that room." He jerked towards her as if to grab her again, but held himself back. "We... we thought we'd find you and make sure you were safe."

He suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall. "Come on!" She had a hard time making walking; her legs felt numb, and if not for Nelaros' grip on her hand she might very well fall over. Thankfully, the corridor was empty of guards. Or rather, it was empty of any _living _guards. She could see three dead men scattered across the floor, slumped over on the ground with blood oozing out of their wounds.

It was a horrifying sight; Kali had never before seen so much blood. The coppery stench floated to her, and her stomach twisted in revulsion. She almost gagged, but somehow managed to swallow it down. She wouldn't help anything by vomiting everywhere.

They finally made it to the end of the hall, which spilled into a large room. Nelaros let go of her hand as Jandar turned to them. His eyes lit up as he looked at Kali, but there was no time for him to do anything except point to a closed door. "I can hear Vaughan with one of the women." His voice choked with rage. "But, I don't think he's had enough time to do much."

Kali was terrified of what she would see, but she tried to steady herself. She inhaled deeply, holding her head high and nodding to Jandar that she was ready. But when he kicked the door open, any self control she had fled at the sight in front of her, and her knees almost buckled.

Shianni was lying on a couch against the wall, desperately trying to cover her nakedness with what little clothing she had left while Vaughan jumped off of her. Her hair was messy and tangled, tears poured out of her eyes, and Kali could see fresh bruises across her face and shoulders. She had fought him and lost.

But, if there was any sense of rightness in the world, he hadn't yet violated her.

"SHIANNI!" Kali screamed, barely paying attention to Vaughan or his men, who slowly reached for their weapons. She tried to rush to her cousin but Nelaros put a hand out, stopping her.

"Not yet," he said quietly.

Vaughan picked up his sword, and held it casually in his hand. "Well, well, what's this?" The arrogant look on his face made Kali sick. "Three knife-ears who don't know their places?"

"Shall we kill them, mi'lord?" one of the men asked.

Vaughan stroked his chin thoughtfully, and studied Kali and the two men. "Perhaps we could, but there _is_ a potential problem with that. See these two?" He inclined his head to Jandar and Nelaros. "They're covered in blood; what do you think that means?"

The muscles in Jandar's neck tensed. "It means those guards of yours are dead."

Vaughan frowned, ignoring Shianni's pitiful cries behind him. "Well, perhaps we shouldn't be so hasty. Think about your position here: you _could_ kill us, but what do you think would happen? My father, the Arl of Denerim, will burn that pitiful Alienage you call home, to the ground." He fought a smile, knowing that he had the upper hand. "But there _is_ another option. If you turn around now and leave, I won't say anything about the men you killed. I'll even give you money, provided that you leave Denerim tonight."

Kali's skin was clammy, tingling with nervousness and fear. She didn't see a way out of this, but she wouldn't leave Shianni. "Will... you let the girls go?" If he agreed to let them go, she would leave. She didn't even want the money; she would leave for some other Alienage or go join the Dalish. As long as Shianni was safe.

Vaughan shook his head. "The girls stay. They'll go home tomorrow," he smiled, "a little worse for wear, but otherwise unharmed."

No, that wouldn't work. Kali's heart was a knot in her chest, and she couldn't stop the fear the slithered up her stomach, but she wouldn't abandon Shianni. After all that her cousin had done for her, all the times she had stood up for Kali, kept her secrets, patiently cared for her, Kali owed her this.

Shaking, terrified of what would happen, Kali's hands clenched tightly onto the daggers Nelaros had given her. "Just... let them go and we'll leave; we don't want to fight... _please_, just let them go." She was almost pleading; she didn't want to have to fight such a powerful man. If somehow she killed him, she would die. The guards would starve her in the dungeons, torture her, then lead her to the square where she would hand from a rope in front of hundreds of jeering humans.

She would risk it, if it kept Shianni safe. Shianni was her best friend, the only sister she had ever known. She had been there when Mama died, helped her to overcome her grief. Kali would die a thousands times to keep Shianni safe.

So when Bann Vaughan merely scowled and started calling her a knife-ear, a pathetic waste of Maker given talent, she knew there was no other option.

He jerked his head, and the three humans rushed towards the elves. With a cry of despair and helplessness, Kali rushed to meet Vaughan. When she was a few feet in front of him she ducked, and swung her leg out. Vaughan's feet were swept out from underneath him, and he fell with a harsh thud, as Jandar lunged at one of the other men. Kali could hear the severe clashing of steel on steel, but had no time to see what was happening, as Vaughan was quickly getting to his feet, murder in his eyes.

Something whizzed by Kali's head; she could see the arrow sticking out of the far wall as she dodged Vaughan's angry attacks. One hit, and she would be killed. Her dress was made of thin fabric, there was nothing to block the sleek blade if it made contact with her body. Thankfully, she was far more lithe than the human, and was able to slide under his arm, and twist around to slice a blade through the back of his arm.

Vaughan howled in pain, but the cut wasn't enough to hinder his attacks. She could hear Jandar grunting, and soon another scream pierced the small room. Vaughan's second man clutched at an arrow sticking out of his chest, and fell against the back wall. Another arrow flew by her, amazingly missing her head, and lodged itself in Vaughan's shoulder. He slowly sank to the ground, dropping his sword and grabbing at his shoulder to try and pull out the arrow.

He screamed in pain, and as Kali slowly walked up to him, his eyes grew wide and he tried to clamber away from her. "NO! You can't kill me! I'm the arl's son!"

But Kali didn't hear him. She couldn't hear or see anything but the mental image of this horrible, cruel man, laughing while Shianni begged him to stop hurting her. There was a rest mist in front of Kali's vision; she couldn't seem to control her own actions, as she slowly knelt down next to him, met his eyes for one chilling moment, and shoved a dagger into his chest.

Blood spurted from the wound, showering her face and arms with splatters of sin, and Vaughan let out a sickening gurgle as the dark red liquid sputtered out of his mouth. He choked and gagged, and soon his eyes went still and his body slumped.

Kali dropped her second dagger and stood up, staring down at the dead man, anger draining out of her as surely as Vaughan's blood was still leaking out of his body. _Mama, what did I do?_

She slowly became aware of Shianni, still whimpering on the couch, and she rushed over to her cousin. Shianni lifted her head, and her shaking hands reached up to clutch Kali's sleeve. "Don't leave me!" she pleaded. Her normally strong voice was thick with sobs; it was painful to hear. "Please, don't leave me alone!" Kali gathered Shianni into her arms, and felt the shoulder of her dress grow wet as her strong cousin shook from the strength of her tears.

"I'll go find the rest of the girls," Nelaros said softly. Jandar pulled his sword from the dead guard and stared at the wall silently, doing everything he could not to look at Shianni, crying on Kali's shoulder.

Soon Nelaros came back with Nola and Nesiara, who seemed to be unharmed; Vaughan must have gone for Shianni first. As soon as Nesiara saw Jandar, she started sobbing, and pitched herself in his arms. "You came for me!" she cried. "I was so scared!" Jandar awkwardly stroked her back.

"Thank the Maker you came for us," Nola said, with a haunted look on her face. "They said we were... to wait for our turn." She lowered her head as tears fell.

"Come on, let's get back to the alienage before more guards come," Nelaros said.

Kali nodded and tried to help Shianni stand. But her cousin's clothing was too worn to wear, so Nelaros grabbed a cloak from Vaughan's closet and wrapped it tenderly around her. She flinched, the cloak smelled like Vaughan, but didn't say anything. At least it would cover her until she got home.

Kali still had her arm around her cousin, but she glanced over and saw Nesiara still sobbing against Jandar's chest. There was something about the scene that finally brought her to her senses. For the first time, she realized that her life wouldn't lead to him. Even if they somehow survived this mess, the wedding would still resume, and he would start his new life with his crying bride. There was no room for her. Jandar met her eyes, but there was nothing he could say, or do. They both saw the truth in that moment.

She looked away from him, and saw Nelaros watching her. This man had risked his life to come for her, when he barely knew her. He was a good man; she saw it in his eyes and in his actions. If given the chance to know him, Kali could see herself growing to care for him. Maybe life with him wouldn't be so bad.

Shianni covered her mouth with her hands, trying to stifle her sobs, and Kali pulled herself from her thoughts. Now was not the time to think about Nelaros and Jandar. They had to get Shianni home, and taken care of.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Vunin'lath - Mating Day, or Wedding Day<br>hahren - among the Dalish its used for an elder as a sign of respect; in the alienage its used for the leader_

_This chapter was a bit more on the dark side, though I don't think there was any other way it could have been. It was a little difficult for me to write because while I tried to maintain Kali's innocent, non-violent outlook on life, I had to still portray that she's an able fighter, willing to defend herself and those she loves if forced into a corner. If given the chance, she'll always look for an alternative to fighting, but she'll still fight for what she thinks is right. I hope I managed to depict it well. _

_As far as Ashara's pov moment, there is one thing I feel the need to explain. I mix a lot of what I've learned about the Dalish, with cultures I've read a lot about, mostly the Anasazi and Celtic cultures, to fill in the gaps. The particular part about destroying the faces of the humans, however, is taken from ancient Egypt, where the people believed that Osiris couldn't find you to take you to your rest if he couldn't recognize you. I thought it would work with the Dalish, who would want Falon'Din to recognize them to take them to the Beyond. Plus, it seems appropriate for that level of rage. Not only do you take away their lives, but you take away their hope of finding eternal peace.  
><em>

_I want to thank Legionary Prime and Shakespira for the awesome comments. Hearing from you two makes my day! :D And thank you to all of you that requested alerts. Makes me so happy! You guys are all amazing and I really appreciate it_


	7. Chapter 7

Night settled around their camp like a thick cloud, almost choking Kali with a gloomy blackness. She could hear the sharp yelp of a fox in the distance, and the howls of a pack of wolves echoed on the wind. Thank the Maker that the fire kept all those animals away.

This forest was eery and foreboding, but it seemed that she was the only one who found it frightening. Around her, she could see the sleeping forms of the other Grey Wardens as they lay comfortably in their bedrolls. Even Duncan himself was snoring softly, completely at ease with the unwelcome habitat they had entered. Kali sighed; maybe she was just being childish, but she had never before set foot outside of Denerim. And the sharp contrast between the familiar sounds of the city she was used to, and the cries of nature was enough to send shivers up her spine.

Six days since they left Denerim. They were on a road that Duncan called the Brecilian Passage. Supposedly, it would lead them through the Korcari Wilds to an abandoned ruin called Ostagar, where the king's army had gathered with the rest of the Grey Wardens to fight back the darkspawn horde. Duncan said they had to defeat the horde now, before it began to spread to the rest of Ferelden. He claimed that if the horde advanced north, it would destroy the entire country.

But, right now Kali was finding it difficult to concentrate on the threat of the darkspawn. Her feet ached from so much walking, and though she was constantly hungry she could barely bring herself to eat anything. She tried to sleep, but found herself staring up at the sky until the sun rose, and it was time to get up and move on. Six days on the road. Six days since she was forced to leave her home, and everything she had ever known.

She tried to comfort herself with the notion that she was alive, that everyone she cared about was safe. The guards had been quick to storm the Alienage after discovering Vaughan's death, and they had been fully prepared–even eager–to hang her for murdering a human.

Part of her felt that she deserved it; she had killed a man. Murder was a sin, no matter the reason. How could she be forgiven for such an act? She could claim that she was only protecting Shianni, she could lay blame at the rush of hatred she had felt at that moment when she watched Vaughan begging for his life, but the simple truth of the mater was that she still murdered him. She would have to answer for that crime when she faced the Maker.

But she didn't want to die. Even when she told the guards that Vaughan's death rested solely on her shoulders, that no one else was responsible, she had been afraid. She was terrified at the thought of hanging from the gallows; she was just trying to do the right thing. Jandar and Nelaros were only trying to protect the women, they didn't deserve to die for that. Besides, _she _was the one who killed Lord Vaughan; she should be the one to take responsibility. But when Duncan stepped forward and invoked the Right of Conscription, she had stayed silent. For all that she deserved death, she wanted to live.

Though, maybe this was her punishment, she thought glumly. To join a group of warriors whose sole job it was to fight creatures so dripped in evil that even their blood could kill. At the very least, she was now to live in a camp full of humans. Humans killed her mother, they treated elves like dirt, abused and terrorized them whenever the mood struck. Had Vaughan not been killed, no one would have even blinked twice at what he did to Shianni. Kali had spent most of her life avoiding humans, but now she would be forced to live with them.

And this trip to Ostagar had done nothing to alleviate her fears. These Grey Wardens weren't abuse by any means, but they were so loud. They spoke in booming voices and shouted at one another constantly, often clapping each other on the back and laughing raucously. Duncan had introduced her to the group, but so far she had barely spoken to any of them.

Only one human managed to stand out, if only because he was also a new recruit. His name was Daveth, and he was a thief from Denerim, conscripted much like she had been. He laughingly told her about trying to cut Duncan's purse, and how Duncan had chased him through the marketplace. The rest of the Grey Wardens seemed to find this story hilarious. Most nights they asked Daveth to retell it and wold collapse into laughter while Duncan merely smiled pleasantly. Daveth, for one, fit right in with the rest of the humans.

Kali glanced across the fire and studied the only other member of this group still awake, the Dalish woman Ashara. She was ignoring Kali, silently staring into the flames as if she could see something in them. Her male companion, the Dalish man named Tamlen, was sleeping near her, breathing slowly and steadily. Unlike the humans, Ashara and Tamlen were practically mute. They only talked to each other, and ignored almost everyone else around them. But, like Kali, they rarely slept. They would only catch quick naps here and there before the sun rose, and one of them would always stake awake. It was almost as if they were afraid to be exposed.

So far, Kali had only spoken with them a little, as they rarely answered direct questions. Of the two of them though, Ashara was easier to speak with. Tamlen had a violent look about him, a threatening stance that made Kali avoid him. But, Ashara gave off a sweet presence. She had a fragile appearance that originally made Kali think that she had an easy-going nature.

The image was quickly shattered, however, the first time that she actually talked to the woman, as Kali had learned rather swiftly that Ashara was arrogant and disdainful. But, at least she answered Kali's questions, even if she did so hesitantly. Strangest of all, she seemed willing to speak only because of Kali's escape from Vaughan's estate. She had slid Kali a small smile when she saw Vaughan's blood splattered across her dress. It was as if she actually approved of his murder!

With a sigh, Kali had pulled her legs up and rested her cheek on her knees, feeling the soft brown leather that now covered her legs. When he had learned that Kali was to leave Denerim, perhaps forever, Father had taken her home and brought out an old box that he said once belonged to Mother. He said it was an outfit that she had worn during her time as a thief, and that she had saved it for sentimental reasons. Now that Kali was to join an army at war, the leather could provide her with protection.

So she had put the outfit on, marveling at what Mama's life must have been like before she was married. The leather pants were tanned, thick, and of an expensive quality, certainly more expensive than anything else Kali had ever owned. In addition to the pants, the box had boasted a pale tunic, and thick boots that made this journey much easier than her worn slippers would have. She even now had bracers that slipped on her upper arms and forearms; Duncan said they were to help protect the skin from the sharp sting of a blade.

Kali had studied herself in the small looking-glass at her house. Mama's clothing made her look dangerous, like someone far different from who she really was, and she enjoyed the freedom of moving her legs, something that the long dresses she normally wore didn't allow for.

Yet despite it all: Mama's clothing, this new status as a Grey Wardens, inside she was still the same Kali.

She might look different on the outside, but all she wanted to do was to go back to the Alienage. She missed everyone; Father, Shianni, Jandar, even Nelaros. The thought of them almost brought tears to her eyes, but she swallowed them back. It would do no good to cry. Duncan had allowed her a quick moment to talk to her cousin, and Shianni seemed to be unharmed. Vaughan hadn't gotten a chance to rape her, and Shianni had firmly stated that everything would be okay. But, Kali wouldn't know for certain. And Father, would he be okay without her there to help take care of him?

Kali let out a groan and lay down on her back, staring at the specks of black sky visible through the canopy of trees. She brushed her sandy bangs from her eyes and tried not to think, but she couldn't seem to empty her mind. Only a few short days ago she had been worrying about the future with Nelaros, heartbroken that she couldn't be with Jandar, and desperately trying to calm her nerves.

Now it was all different. She was a murderer, and belonged to a group of warriors that fought for a living. In just another day or so, they would reach Ostagar. She, who hated violence, would be part of an army at war. It was a frightening though.

oOo

"The ruins of Ostagar," Duncan remarked, as the group slowly entered the crumbling entrance of what looked like a large fortress.

Kali looked around, dumbstruck at the sheer size of the ruins. She had never before seen anything like it! Though the place was in disarray now, it had obviously once been extremely impressive. She could see a slim tower peeking over the stone arches and faded statues littered along the walkways. Clumps of grass poked through various spots of the flooring, and she could hear the echoes of hundreds of men off in the distance.

Her stomach dropped. This was it. She was really here, with an army. Soon, she would take part in a war.

One of the dark-skinned Wardens that traveled with them turned towards Duncan, while clapping Daveth on the shoulder. What was his name? "We'll take Daveth 'ere to the mess tent," he said. Kavan. That was his name. Duncan nodded and the Grey Wardens led Daveth across a thick stone bridge, laughing loudly about something that involved ale and wenches.

Duncan turned to the three of them left, the three elves who weren't invited to go with the humans. Kali had a sinking feeling that this was how life in the Grey Wardens was going to be. It wasn't that she particularly _wanted _to go with them, but she had held a small glimmer of hope that maybe the separations between the humans and elves wouldn't be the same as it was in the Alienage.

She slid a glance at Ashara and Tamlen, and saw that they actually seemed a bit more relaxed now that the humans were gone.

Duncan gestured to the ruins around them. "The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern lowlands–"

"This is an Imperium structure?" Ashara interrupted, a harsh scowl on her face.

Duncan nodded. "This is also where the bulk of the darkspawn horde will show itself, and we should be grateful for that, given how easily defended Ostagar is." But Ashara's frown only deepened as Duncan guided them to the bridge that seemed to lead to the main part of the camp.

"Ho! Duncan!" Kali glanced towards the voice and saw a young man dressed in large golden armor, striding swiftly towards them. He was trailed by two guards, and wore a bright smile on his face. "It's about time you returned!" Duncan bowed deeply, and Kali immediately followed suit. She finally recognized this man. He was King Cailan, the ruling king of Ferelden! Were the Grey Wardens so important that the king himself would come to greet them?

"Greetings, your Majesty," Duncan said respectfully. He gestured to Kali, Ashara, and Tamlen. "Allow me to introduce our newest Grey Warden recruits."

King Cailan was positively beaming as he studied the three of them, and Kali was reminded of the many stories she had heard about this king. Rumors said that he was young and energetic, often to the point of being foolish. Many people thought that he often ignored his duties to chase after glory, and that it was only his eagle-eyed wife, Queen Anora, who maintained a firm grip on the country. Kali didn't know how true those rumors might be, as she had never met him before. The Alienage wasn't usually on his list of places to visit.

"Greetings! Might I know your names?"

His eyes were on her, so she bowed deeply again. She really wished that he'd look elsewhere; this was the king of Ferelden, the most important man in the country. Despite the warm smile he flashed on her, she found him very intimidating. "M-my name is Kali, Your Majesty."

King Cailan turned his attention to Ashara, who tossed her black hair. Kali found it impressive that she could manage to look down her nose at a human almost a foot taller than her. "I am Ashara." There was laughter at the back of her voice; she looked almost amused. She didn't bow, or even dip her head! Didn't she realize who this man was?

Tamlen was studying the king with a look that Kali couldn't read. "Call me Tamlen," he said reluctantly. It almost looked as though he was sizing the king up, trying to determine his worth. By Andraste, couldn't these two see that they were being disrespectful?

But King Cailan didn't seem to mind; he merely smiled while his eyes traveled between the two of them. He studied the swirls on Tamlen's forehead, and with Ashara's chin lifted he could see the vines and leaves tattooed around her neck. He almost seemed to gap at them. "I say, those tattoos are very interesting! Tell me, are you Dalish?"

Ashara nodded curtly, though Kali was sure that she heard the ghost of a sigh. She remembered hearing Ashara whisper to Tamlen that she was sick of the Grey Wardens asking about their tattoos, and wondering if they were really Dalish. Ashara had wondered out loud whether or not she could light their clothes on fire, to give them something else to stare at.

"We are." She inclined her dark head towards Kali and her voice grew impatient. "Though, perhaps you should be more interested to speak with your subject here, given what she went through to join the Wardens."

King Cailan turned his attention back to Kali and tilted his head curiously. "What is she speaking of?"

Kali opened her mouth, but her throat tightened. She could hardly tell her king that she had murdered on of his lords. He would be obliged to arrest her and take her back to Denerim. But, Ashara tutted irritably, taking the choice away from Kali.

"On her wedding day, one of _your shemlen_ lords kidnapped her and three other women, in an attempt to rape them." Ashara's voice was flat, and she speared the king with her lilted eyes. "It was only by her skill that the women escaped without harm." Well, at least she didn't come out and directly accuse Kali of murder.

King Cailan gaped at the dark girl, before turning his attention back to Duncan. "I-is this true?"

Duncan bowed his head. "Your Majesty, _I _would not have put it so bluntly, but yes. The Arl of Denerim's son was killed after an attempt to kidnap elven women." He cleared his throat and continued tactfully. "There are issues in Denerim that you should be made aware of."

The king shook his blonde head sadly. "So it appears." He was silent for a moment, and then let out a heavy sigh. "I shall deal with this when I return to Denerim. But for now," he brightened and smiled at the three elves, "let me be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. I am sure that the Wardens will benefit greatly with you among them."

Duncan bowed his head again. "Your uncle sends his regards, and wishes me to remind you that Redcliffe forces shall arrive within the week."

The king laughed heartily, and Kali felt a small flicker of anger at how cheerful he was. Ashara and Duncan had just told him that one of his lords tried to rape elven women, and he barely batted an eye. She knew it was the way of the world, that she should just be grateful that she wasn't going to be brought up on charges of murder, but she bowed her head to hide the resentment in her eyes, while the king continued his energetic talk.

"Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory! We've one three battles against these monsters, and tomorrow should be no different."

Ashara narrowed her eyes, looking almost ready to spit venom. She didn't seem to like the king's response any more than Kali did. But maybe she realized that there was nothing she could do, since all she said was, "You seem awfully confident."

"I'm not even sure this is a true Blight," the king replied boldly. "There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an Archdemon." He might have shrugged, but his armor was so thick that it was almost impossible to tell.

"Disappointed, Your Majesty?" Duncan asked.

King Cailan laughed. "I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens to stem the tide of evil. But, I suppose this will have to do." It seemed that the rumors about him were true after all. He glanced back to them and dipped his head. "I must meet with Loghain before he sends out a search party; I shall see you this evening. Farewell, Grey Wardens."

He walked off towards the slim tower with his two guards trailing behind him, while Duncan motioned for the three elves to follow him across the bridge. "What the king said is true. They've won a number of battles here against the darkspawn."

"That _shemlen _did not seem to take them very seriously," Tamlen remarked idly. "A very foolish mistake; even our _da'len _know how dangerous darkspawn can be."

For a moment, it looked as though Duncan wished to agree, but he remained diplomatic. "We have only a few Grey Wardens here in Ferelden; our numbers are too few to fight this Blight ourselves." He gave Tamlen a long look. "That is why we must rely on the king's forces, and Teyrn Loghain's men. They are an invaluable asset against the Blight." He guided them to a large fire set near a cluster of tents, where Kali saw a blonde haired man sitting silently, polishing a sword.

The young man turned when he heard them approach and dropped his sword, jumping early to his feet. He looked lively and anxious, possibly only a few years older than her, and his face positively lit up when he saw Duncan. He wore only plain chainmail; Kali recognized the style from some of the Denerim guards. Duncan smiled fondly at the stranger, and Kali realized that he must be another Grey Warden. "Alistair, these are some of our new recruits."

Alistair's hazel eyes widened as he looked over them. It was hard to imagine him as a warrior; he didn't have the battle hardened look that the rest of the Grey Wardens had. If anything, he looked to Kali like an exuberant boy.

"Elves?" Alistair inquired, staring at the three of them as if he had never seen elves before.

Tamlen crossed his arms defensively, the swirls around his temple twitching. "Is that a problem, _shem_?" Ashara lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. Maker, was there anyone these two _didn't _try to pick a fight with?

Alistair shook his head vehemently, seemingly shocked that they would consider his words insulting. "No, not at all! There just... aren't many elves in the Grey Wardens." He held his hands up apologetically.

Duncan cleared his throat and began the introductions. When he was finished, he glanced around the camp, where humans scurried around in what seemed like madness to Kali. "And have you met Daveth yet? He went off with the others."

Alistair pointed to a large tent. "The men already got him to the tables, with promises of some of the best ale he's ever tasted." He let out a chuckle, as if this was a funny thought.

Duncan laughed. "I'm putting these recruits, along with Daveth, in your care, in addition to Jory. Tonight, you can gather them together and answer some of their questions. For now, I must speak with Teyrn Loghain." He nodded to them all and walked off towards the bridge, while Alistair turned to the three elves.

"Well, welcome to the Grey Wardens," he said awkwardly, seemingly at a lose. He glanced around, as if wishing for someone else to take his place, and his eyes fell on Ashara and Tamlen. Like every other human they encountered, he studied their strange tattoos. "You are Dalish?"

"Let me guess: you didn't believe we existed?" Tamlen asked sarcastically. Kali knew that they were starting to grow genuinely irritated at the question, but she couldn't really blame them. It would be annoying to have everyone stare like that.

Alistair coughed nervously into his fist and glanced at Ashara. His eyes drifted to the staff she gripped. "Are you a mage?" he asked slowly. Was that really a question? Even without the staff, there was something about Ashara that just screamed "angry spellcaster".

She tapped a nail against the dark wooden staff, and her eyelashes swept her cheeks. "Not at all," she replied smoothly. "I simply find beating _shemlen_ with sticks far more satisfying than gutting them with swords." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and despite being so uneasy about the situation around them, Kali had to stifle a hesitant chuckle. Ashara's eyes flicked to Kali, and she was sure she saw the Dalish woman's lips twitch.

Alistair turned his attention to her and she quickly sobered. She didn't like being the focus of human attention. "So, is the sarcasm an elf trait, or just a Dalish one?" He seemed to be expecting Kali to answer, but it was Ashara who responded.

"Is stupidity a human trait, or just a Grey Warden one?" she asked sweetly.

"From the way that _shemlen _king talked, I'd say it's a _shem _trait," Tamlen commented darkly, glaring at Alistair. "And this one seems to be no different."

Alistair shook his head and sighed. "Wonderful. Not even Grey Wardens yet, and already you're wounding my pride." He indicated his thumb towards the large tent. "They're about to serve up the afternoon meal. Would you like to join us?"

Ashara slid her eyes towards the rest of the camp, where they could see humans shouting and laughing. Some were practicing their swordplay, some were shining weapons and armor, and some were knelt down in prayer. She came back to Alistair and shook her head. "I am going to stay here. I have no appetite in this place." Tamlen nodded in agreement, and the two of them walked to the fire and sat down next to each other.

Alistair shrugged and turned his attention to Kali. "What about you? The meals are a good way to meet everyone."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say to her. "N-no, I think I will stay here." Trying not to notice his defeated look, she followed the two Dalish elves to the fire and sat down near them. Ashara glanced at her, and Kali was sure she saw something in those violet eyes. Approval, maybe?

She sat silently and listened while Ashara and Tamlen talked to each other, saying something about a keeper, and wondering whether or not their clan had moved. Even though they barely spoke to Kali, she was grateful to at least be around two familiar elves, rather than a tent full of strange humans. She pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. Hundreds of humans scurried around her, yet she had never felt so alone.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** Finally get to Ostagar! Poor Alistair is going to have fun trying to deal with Ashara and Tamlen. Things will start moving along soon. I think there might be one more chapter before they go to the Korcari Wilds, and then we'll get to the Joining, and the fall of Ostagar. I was originally going to do a chapter about what happened after Kali and the rest of the elves came back from Vaughan's estate, but I figured it was time to get things moving._

_A big thank you goes to Kira Tamarion, Shakespira, tami, and Sundanze for the reviews! And thanks to those of you lurking, alerting, or adding this story to favorites. It means more than I can say :D_


	8. Chapter 8

By the Creators, Ashara hated this place. Everywhere she looked saw nothing but cold stone, hard and unfeeling. Humans were scurrying around in what seemed like a constant state of panic; they ran from place to place, almost as if their destination would disappear if they dawdled. And the ones who seemed to be in charge were continuously shouting orders, yelling so loudly that it made even Fenarel seem quiet. Ashara's sensitive ears kept twitching this way and that, as different sounds caught her attention. It was driving her insane.

She and Tamlen were sitting on a bench–a stone bench like everything else in this place fit only for the abyss–near the training yard. Ashara had her crossed legs pulled up onto the bench, and watched the humans roll around and grunt in what she assumed was an attempt to practice, though to her eyes they looked like mice running about with no sense of direction. Despite the stone pressing against the muscles of her legs, it was better than planting her feet on the ground, for even the very floor they walked on was made of grey rock. Everything was fake. There was no soft earth to draw comfort from, no fresh trees to lean against. Even the air itself seemed stale and unpleasant.

She rested her chin against the palm of her hand and glanced at Tamlen. "This place is so disgusting," she said, crinkling her nose in distaste. "Do these humans ever bathe?" The foul stench from hundreds of unwashed bodies was almost nauseating. She and Tamlen hadn't been able to bathe since before their arrival to Ostagar, when Duncan had chosen a campsite near a fresh stream. It had been three days since she'd last been clean, and she felt like she was going to lose her mind.

Tamlen's eyes flicked to her and he sighed. She knew what was going through his mind; he missed the Clan, and freedom. Never before had they been confined to a single area. Everyone in the Clan was allowed to come and go as they pleased; they could sprint through the forest, splash in the rivers, or fall asleep in the trees. It made both of them nervous to be trapped within such large walls. The only comfort Ashara could find was the sight of the bright blue sky, for this place didn't have a ceiling. Thank _Mythal _for that, at least.

"We might as well get used to it," Tamlen remarked pessimistically. "That _shemlen_, Alistair, said that after we've ended the Blight we'll be rebuilding the Grey Warden bases around Ferelden." He narrowed his eyes. "That means our home will now forever be encased within stone walls."

Ashara pursed her lips and didn't say anything. What Tamlen said made sense, but she hadn't really thought of it like that. She had thought, foolishly, that after the battle was over, the two of them might find their Clan again. Duncan had mentioned that they were Grey Wardens for life, but she hadn't really thought about his words. She felt like a fool not to have seen it before, but she hadn't really thought that she and Tamlen would never go home again.

"Do you really find cities that strange?" a quiet voice asked curiously.

Still lost in her own dark thoughts, Ashara turned her head lazily to see the flat-ear sitting a few feet away from her, her blonde head tilted questioningly. She had completely forgotten that Kali was there; the girl was too quiet.

"We of the _Elvhenan _live in the forests," Ashara said. "Before we came to Denerim, Tamlen and I had never set foot in a stone city. The closest we've come it seeing a small village."

"I can't imagine having never seen a city," Kali replied sweetly, her green eyes widening.

"Yes, well, we are grateful for the distance. _We _still remember what it means to be _Elvhen_." Ashara couldn't help the note of anger in her voice.

This girl irritated her. Ashara knew the flat-ear had it in her to fight against the way her people were treated, but she didn't seem to care enough to draw on her strengths. When she came back to the filthy Alienage after being kidnapped, with her arms covered in that _shem's _blood, there had been a hardened look in those wide eyes that had actually sparked a glimmer of respect from Ashara.

She had thought that perhaps Kali was far stronger than she looked, but was quickly proven wrong. As soon as they left Denerim, the flat-ear began acting like a frightened _da'len_. She had been nervous in the Brecilian Passage, and anxious when they reached Ostagar. Each time a _shem _spoke to her, she would twist her hands together and lower her head submissively. It was pitiful to watch.

Ashara turned her attention away from the flat-ear and noticed Alistair walking towards them, followed by a large blond warrior with an axe slung over his shoulder. Oh, wonderful. The _shemlen _that Duncan had put in charge was almost more annoying than Kali's twitchy nervousness. He constantly shifted from one foot to the other, speaking so quietly that she wanted to smack him. Ashara had no respect for a man who couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"Uh, hi," Alistair said nervously. For the life of her, Ashara couldn't figure out why Duncan had put all of them in this man's charge. He was like a wide-eyed boy desperately seeking praise from his parents. Yet she and Tamlen were supposed to look to him for guidance? It was laughable.

"Is there something you wanted, _shem_?" Tamlen gritted his teeth and tried to keep his voice light, but Ashara could hear the impatience laced in his words. She knew it galled him to think of this man as in charge, when he was used to following the commands of Chief Tasar. Alistair wasn't even fit to carry Tasar's weapons.

"I wanted to introduce you to Borin," Alistair said, gesturing to the large man next to him.

Borin's eyes crinkled up; Ashara guessed that he was trying to smile, but it was difficult to tell with the large beard that dangled from his chin. It looked like an animal had died on his face; Ashara kept expecting to see it move. "We need to see what the three of you can do."

"You mean... fight?" Kali gasped, as if shocked by such a thing.

"No, he means he wants to watch us sing and dance around the camp," Tamlen retorted sharply.

Kali flushed, a dull tinge that crept up her cheeks and colored the skin under her freckles a bright red. Ashara wondered how it was that a girl her age, only two years younger, could really be that innocent. If the failed wedding had been any hint, this girl had seen human cruelty her entire life. So how was it that she stayed so nervous and empty-headed?

Borin shifted his axe. "We're to engage in battle tomorrow night, but before we do, we need to know what your skills are. That way we'll have a better idea of where to place you to our best advantage." He gestured to the training area, where Ashara could see that the Wardens were clearing a large space.

She slowly stood up from the bench and studied the blond human thoughtfully. "I am to use my magic, then?" The rules seemed so different from the Clan. Among the Dalish, a mage was not permitted to use their magic unless for training, or for the benefit of the Clan. Otherwise they risked exhausting their spirit too much, and what if their skills were then needed to heal or protect? A mage would never use their spells simply to show off their abilities.

Borin nodded. "Tell me how many men you can handle, and we'll send them against you. We have other mages on hand that will heal them." He stroked that horrid bear. "What sort of spells do you have?"

Ashara tapped her nail against her staff, drawing comfort from the feel of the dark wood. It was the only thing of her father's that she possessed, the staff that he used when he was alive. She cherished it for that reason alone. "I have a decent grasp on the elements." Her voice took on a narcissistic lilt; she was quite proud of what the Keeper had taught her. "I can heal and attack, cast curses, enchant weapons, and energize allies."

She trailed off, holding her chin up. What she had said was true, but she would not tell them everything. These humans did not need to know of the ancient magic of her people. She might have joined the Grey Wardens, but she was still Dalish, and the little bit of ancient magic recovered from _Arlathan_ was a closely guarded secret. She would never reveal it to _shems_, not even during a Blight.

Borin nodded and looked to Tamlen and Kali. "What about you two? What weapons do you use?"

Tamlen glanced at Ashara; he knew she was keeping the Dalish magic secret, and she caught his slight nod of approval. He twitched the bow in his hand. "My skills are best served with the bow, but I am able to use a sword and shield."

Borin turned his attention to Kali, who started wringing her hands together. "M-my mother taught me to use daggers."

The blond warrior nodded and looked at Tamlen. "You, what was your name again?"

"Tamlen."

"Okay, Tamlen, we'll see how good your aim is, and then we'll get you a sword and shield and put you up against Jory."

Tamlen nodded silently and walked to the cleared out area. The Wardens were gathered around in a circle, and whispered eagerly amongst themselves, curious as to the skills of these new elven recruits. Tamlen ignored their questioning scrutiny and shrugged the decorative quiver off his shoulder, before pulling out an arrow. He tapped the head, ensuring that it was one of his blunted arrows, and then set the quiver on the ground. He glanced up at the practice targets on the other side of the clearing and straightened up, notching the arrow.

With the eyes of roughly thirty Wardens on him, he lifted the beautiful white recurve bow, made by his father out of the rare ironbark that only the Dalish could work with. Ashara couldn't help but watch the muscles on his shoulders and upper back grow taut as he pulled the string back. He was such a beautiful man.

He let loose the arrow, and they all watched as it sped towards the target, where the head buried itself into the very center. Ashara smirked at the collective gasp that went up for the crowd. They seemed to be amazed by the accuracy, but really, Tamlen was a hunter. He was trained to shoot at moving animals, to provide food for the Clan; of course he could hit a still object. Nothing could compare to the skill of the Dalish hunters, and Tamlen swiftly pulled out two more arrows, shooting at two different targets. Each one hit in the exact center, just like the first.

The Wardens clapped in approval while Borin walked up to Tamlen with a longsword and wooden shield in his grasp. He could have been smiling, but with that beard Ashara had a hard time telling. "Very impressive," he said. Tamlen glanced back at Ashara, making sure that she had watched, and when he saw the curve of her smile he flashed her a proud smirk.

He set the bow and quiver carefully to the side, and took the longsword and shield from Borin. Ashara could see him checking the balance of the sword, scanning it for any problems. Presumably, it passed his inspection, for he swung it around a couple of times in his left hand to get the feel of the weight.

"You'll be sparring against Jory here," Borin said, indicating a red man who stepped forward. Ashara recognized him as another Grey Warden recruit. A terribly stupid one, actually. They had met the night before, and Jory had immediately launched into details about some tournament he had won, as if that was supposed to make him sound like a warrior. Ashara had made the comment that a true warrior did not feel the need to brag about his exploits, and Jory had stormed off in quite the huff.

Well, now they'd get to see how strong he really was. He was carrying a very large sword that seemed to require both hands to hold it, and when he stood a few feet in front of Tamlen he bowed. "It is an honor to duel you." He looked at Tamlen, as if waiting for something.

But Tamlen just stared at the human, and Ashara couldn't understand what it was that Jory wanted. Was he expecting Tamlen to bow back? Why in _Mythal's _name would he do such a thing? If one was to fight, it was to either practice their skill, or protect the Clan. Halting before a battle made no sense.

Borin shouted for them to start, and Jory lifted his giant sword, rushing at Tamlen. But, Ashara could see that the sword was very heavy, and it put him at an instant disadvantage. With a shout, Jory swung the sword around and lifted it up, ready to bring it down on top of Tamlen. But elves were naturally more lithe than _shemlen_, and Tamlen was swift even for an elf. He brought the shield up and blocked the incoming attack; the harsh thud from the wood of the shield and the blunted sword echoed against the stone walls of the camp.

Tamlen quickly brought his sword around to strike Jory in his exposed side. While the _shemlen's _armor protected against the blade, it did knock him off balance; Ashara knew that he would have a harsh bruise come morning. But, it gave Tamlen the opening he needed. While Jory staggered and stumbled to regain his footing, Tamlen slammed the shield into his chest and knocked him to the ground. At once, Tamlen jumped forward and squatted over Jory's chest, with his sword at the human's throat.

"You're dead," Tamlen said. Ashara didn't need to see his face to know that he was wearing that feral grin most hunters got when they fought. It was the grin of a hunter who had bested his prey. Tamlen stepped back and let Jory climb to this feet. The _shem _tried to look pleased at his rival's success, but it was clear to them all that he was irritated.

Borin stepped forward while the Wardens clapped. "Well done!" he said. Ashara noticed Alistair standing among the crowd, clapping with everyone else, and found herself wondering why it was that Duncan had left him in charge, rather than this man Borin. Certainly it seemed that Borin had a more commanding presence, and a sense of order that the young _shem _lacked.

Tamlen sauntered back to Ashara with a grin that made her chest warm, while Borin turned his attention to her. "You're Ashara, right?" She nodded. "All right, tell me how many men."

Reluctantly, she pulled her eyes from Tamlen's face and walked to the center of the cleared out area. It seemed that she and Kali were the only females in the Grey Wardens, and she could see the way the men looked at them. The way their eyes traveled over Kali's cropped hair, or lingered on Ashara's small chest. She lifted her chin and felt herself smile; she knew that these men only saw her and Kali as fragile girls. Perhaps it was true in Kali's case, but Ashara was far from a delicate female. The Dalish knew better than to judge someone based on their sex, but these humans were too stupid to do the same. Oh, how she would love showing them different!

Her eyes traveled across the group of men grinning and nudging each other while they whispered comments that sent them into laughter. They saw her as a weak woman, a weak elf. Good for only one thing. And she reveled in their judgment. Soon they would see what the _Elvhen_ could do! Her eyes came back to Borin. "Five," she said simply.

Borin pointed to five different men. Based on their weapons, Ashara could see that he had chosen two warriors and three rogues. She had been introduced to all of them, but had better things to do than remember their names. The men walked forward and pulled out their weapons. One of them even leered at her. "Don' worry dearie; we'll go easy on you."

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and smiled, but remained silent. Borin shouted for them to start, and the five men circled around her, each wearing a grin. They intended to trap her between all of them, believing that she wouldn't be able to defend herself. And it was true; if they managed to reach her she would probably be dead. Her clothing was made of simple fabric; it would not defend well against the sting of a blade. But she wasn't worried about it.

She didn't even bother to turn her head to see the two men who were now circling behind her. Before they had time to get into position and rush at her, she slammed the bottom of her staff against the cold stone. As the men tried to get to her, a thick black cloud began pulsating from her staff, enveloping the area in darkness and obscuring her from view. She bit back laughter as she heard the men yelping from the pricks of pain that stabbed at them; Death Cloud was one of her favorite spells. It didn't work well when she fought with others, but when she was alone it was perfect. She couldn't see them in the blackness, but she knew where they were. Mages, at least, well trained mages, could see the shimmers of an aura.

So, while the men scrambled through the thick cloud, trying to brush it aside while they barked in pain, she knew exactly where to direct her next spell. She wasn't supposed to kill them, so she simply waved her staff and sent waves of energy forth. The waves shot out around the clouded area, knocking the men off their feet and leaving them helpless against the harsh spirit damage from the Death Cloud. She could see the shimmers collapse to the ground and sent out another wave of energy that crushed them into the stone.

The black cloud slowly dissipated, revealing the men splattered across the clearing. One or two them tried in vain to pick themselves up, but the blast she had sent out had slammed them into the ground. She could see that at least one of them had a broken nose, and perhaps a few of them would be nursing broken ribs. Well, too bad for them.

Borin gestured for the healers to come and nodded approvingly at Ashara. "Very good," he said. She caught Tamlen's proud grin and practically danced over to him. Let these _shemlen_ know that Dalish women were far different from their women. Now they would know to respect her. Ha!

While the healers came and took the wounded men away from the clearing, Borin jerked his thumb at Kali. "Kali?" The girl nodded. Or maybe she was just shaking. It was hard to tell. "Your turn."

Ashara didn't think it was possible for the girl to lose any more blood in her face, but she was proven wrong; Kali was as white as a sheet. But at least she had sense enough to do what was asked of her, for she only ducked her blonde head and walked to the center of the cleared space. Though what was strange, Ashara noticed, was that while Kali stood in the center of the clearing, she didn't pull out her daggers. Duncan had given her a very nice set to use, and Ashara could see them tucked into the straps wrapped around her thighs, but the girl made no movement towards them. Oh _Mythal_, was she seriously going to refuse to fight? She needed to prove herself, just like Ashara had, or else these humans would never see them as anything but weak women.

Borin gestured to Daveth, the obnoxious human that Duncan had recruited in Denerim. He was nice enough for a _shem_, but was too occupied with drink to really be a good fighter. He stood facing Kali, and still the girl didn't retrieve her weapons. Ashara almost wanted to smack her; didn't she realize that none of them had any choice in being here? There was no other option than to fight.

Borin made the shout to start, and Daveth instantly rushed at Kali, his knives held ready to strike her. But when he reached the girl, she quickly side-stepped and grabbed both his upper arm and the back of his neck, pushing him forward so that he stumbled and tried to catch his footing. He turned and stabbed his knife upwards, coming so close to making contact that for a moment Ashara thought the girl had been hit. But Kali only slipped under his arm and twisted around, kicking her foot out and knocking him forward. Ashara suddenly realized what the girl was doing: she was was using Daveth's movements against him to catch him off balance.

But Daveth was quick for a human; he was able to regain his footing swiftly and soon the two of them were circling each other. Yet still Kali didn't bother to reach for her weapons. Daveth twirled the knives in his hands and watched Kali warily, apparently needing the movement. He didn't have the patience to study his enemy, and soon grew tired of circling. He thrust his arm forward to stab her, but Kali dodged the knife while grabbing his wrist and jerking him forward, bringing her knee up to slam it in his stomach. When he doubled, over she swung her leg around and kicked him in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground.

The fight was over, and Kali had never even drawn her weapons. The men were stunned and slowly began clapping, and even Ashara just gaped at the girl. She was skilled–Ashara had never before seen someone take down an attacker bare handed–so why then did she act so shy and withdrawn? And why did she let _shemlen_ treat her and her people so horribly?

Kali's cheeks were flushed red, but her expression was still one of nervousness as she walked back to them; Ashara rounded on the girl. "You can defend yourself against an armed man," she said incredulously. "You're obviously far from helpless. Why then do you let humans bully you?"

Kali ducked her head and wouldn't meet Ashara's gaze. "I don't like fighting," she mumbled.

"You don't have to _like_ fighting, but that doesn't mean you should let yourself be treated badly," Ashara said forcefully.

But Kali only smiled demurely and lowered her eyes.

oOo

Ashara, Tamlen, and Kali were sitting around one of the Grey Warden fires while everyone else was crowed into the mess tent, a large tent where the meals were served. Alistair had tried to convince them to join everyone, but none of them wanted to sit around such a large group of humans. So, they simply put their food on wooden plates and went back to the fire. Alistair seemed disappointed, but there was nothing he could do.

Besides, Duncan didn't seem to have a problem with it. He counseled that at some point they would have to get used to being around humans, but for the time being he accepted their withdrawn attitudes.

Tamlen took a drink of his water and Ashara watched the lump on his throat move as he swallowed. "I hope you appreciate how hard it was to find water here," she said. "Creators, do these humans drink anything except ale?"

Kali stifled a giggle. "Not really. Most of them really like to drink, and the water around the cities is usually dirty."

Tamlen let out an impatient snort. "You'd think they wouldn't want to be drunk the night before battle."

Ashara looked back down at the plate in her lap and pushed around a piece of bread that was dripping in gravy. The food these humans ate was so thick, and they poured gravy on _everything_. There was absolutely no fresh fruit anywhere; the only fruit to be had was either baked or boiled until they had lost any flavoring. And _Mythal_ forbid that they should have any fresh herbs. She had already made enemies of the cooks after demanding to know where they kept their lettuce or endive. At the very least they should have had watercress or _something_, but the cooks had angrily forced her out of the kitchens, shouting at her that Grey Wardens weren't allowed to tell them how to do their job.

She sighed dramatically; the only thing these humans seemed to enjoy was meat. She was used to venison, or fresh fish caught from the rivers. Occasionally the Dalish would capture small birds to add to their meals, but these humans had meat that she had never even heard of. It might be good, but there was no way to tell since again, it was slathered in gravy and she couldn't work up the courage to try it.

Though it seemed she was the only one to feel that way. Kali was enthusiastically eating everything on her plate and even Tamlen appeared to enjoy the mutton. Ashara nibbled on a piece of what Kali had called wheaten bread and set her almost full plate aside. Maybe Duncan would let her go into the Wilds to try and find some fennel roots. At the very least she could eat the seeds to keep away hunger.

She heard shouting, and saw from a distance that some of the men were walking out of the mess tent, leaning on each other and laughing hysterically. Some were red-faced, and most were carrying a large jug of what could only be more ale. Were they really going to drink themselves into a stupor on the eve before battle? Why did those in charge let it happen?

She saw Duncan emerge from the tent, walking next to an older man dressed in bright silver armor. The two of them were discussing something, and slowly made their way over to the Grey Warden fire. As they got closer, Ashara could see the strange man better; he was older than Duncan, but there were only a few streaks of grey in his black hair. His armor was gleaming perfectly; she couldn't find a single mark or blemish on it and his hair was braided neatly away from his face. Everything about him was orderly and neat.

As they reached the fire, Kali swiftly set her plate aside and stood up. Duncan gestured to the older man. "Allow me to introduce you to Loghain Mac Tir, Teyrn of Gwaren and father-in-law to King Cailan."

Loghain nodded to the three of them while Kali bowed deeply. Ashara and Tamlen remained sitting; actually, Tamlen didn't even look up from his plate. Ashara looked up at the human and tilted her head. "You must forgive us if we don't jump up to bow." She was growing extremely weary at how these humans of rank seemed to expect elves to behave. Why should this man be any different from the other shems? "The Dalish bow to no one."

Duncan sighed heavily, but really, he should be used to this by now. No Dalish would ever bend the knee to a human, and neither she nor Tamlen would turn their backs on years of tradition. Why should they show respect to the descendents of those who enslaved their people?

But Loghain didn't seem offended. He merely inclined his head, which could signal either approval or disinterest. "Dalish? King Maric knew a Dalish elf once," he said thoughtfully. His voice was gruff, as one who has little time or patience for foolishness. His eyes studied the tattoo on Tamlen's forehead. "I've yet to meet his equal with the bow."

Ashara raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Tamlen, who set his plate aside. The two of them slowly stood up and dipped their heads to this human who had actually spoken of their people with respect. Dalish honor demanded that they respond in kind.

"_Andaran atish'an_, Loghain of Gwaren," Ashara said, trying to keep her voice light.

Loghain glanced at her, as if he knew the significance of her words. He should, if he had once known a Dalish. The _Elvhenan_ guarded their ancient words jealously, and rarely spoke them to humans. If they did, it was generally directed as an insult. To speak politely in the ancient tongue to a human was a sign of respect. He had better understand that.

"Greetings to you both as well," he said in his brusque voice. Perhaps there was hope here yet. His eyes traveled to Kali, and Ashara saw his brows furrow together. "You are from an alienage? Which one?"

Kali lifted her head but didn't meet his eyes. "I am from Denerim, my lord," she said respectfully.

Loghain studied her as if ascertaining her worth. Obviously Ashara knew that the girl could take care of herself, but she didn't exactly give off an air of confidence. The cropped blonde hair that made her seem so young bounced off her shoulders as she tried to avoid looking directly at Loghain. But there must have been something about her that Loghain approved of, since he merely nodded slightly and turned his attention back to all three of them.

"So, you are all to be Grey Wardens. Did you know that it was King Maric who brought your order back to Ferelden?"

She was sure she saw Duncan stiffen while Loghain watched them all as if waiting for a response, but Ashara had no idea what he was talking about and knew that Tamlen didn't either. Were the Grey Wardens banned from Ferelden, then? It's not like Duncan had really given them a whole lot of information on the subject. She glanced at Kali, with her eyes widened so large she could have passed for a little girl, but she seemed just as confused as Ashara was.

"King Maric," Ashara said slowly. "Is that who was king before... Cailan?" She nearly forgot the _shemlen_ king's name but managed to pull it from memory in time. Why should she care who was king of Ferelden? They had no authority over the Dalish, and never bothered to try and reach out to the wandering folk. One _shem_ was as good as another to her.

"He was King Cailian's father," Duncan clarified. But again, why should that matter?

"Maric freed us from the tyranny of Orlais," Loghain interrupted firmly. "He brought stability back to Ferelden and gave us our freedom."

Again he studied them carefully, as if waiting for a reaction but Ashara had no idea what he wanted. She had heard from the Keeper that the humans had been at war with another country to fight for their freedom. The Clans had found a fierce irony in that, and laughed to think that the humans were slaves to their own race. But the war had no real impact on the Dalish, who only retreated further into their various forests.

Kali lowered her eyes. "Father told me that King Maric was one of the greatest kings Ferelden will ever see," she said quietly.

This seemed to be the right thing to say to Loghain, if there was a right thing. The scowl that seemed permanently fixed to his face eased a bit, and the corner of his lips lifted slightly into something of a smile. He turned his attention to Duncan. "I must return to my task. I bid you all a good evening."

He walked off towards a very large and elaborate tent, and Duncan turned his attention to the three of them. "I suggest that you get some sleep tonight. In the morning we will begin preparations for the Joining ritual, and the battle will be starting tomorrow evening." His face softened and he looked almost sad. "You will need your sleep tonight."

But that request fell on deaf ears. The three of them had barely slept since joining the group of humans, and they weren't likely to start now. Kali was too jumpy to relax, and as for Ashara and Tamlen... well, to sleep meant to be exposed. Ashara had a way to keep her and Tamlen alert, but she glanced at Kali and saw that the girl was fighting to keep her eyes open.

She reached into the pack at her side and pulled out a small vial of powder. She held it up to the blond girl, who watched her curiously. "Give me your drink," Ashara said.

Kali hesitated. "Umm, why?"

Ashara shook the vial. "This is powdered ginseng root. It will keep you awake and alert, so you don't have to worry about getting yourself killed tomorrow."

Kali handed her the cup of water and Ashara uncorked the vial and tapped some powder into the drink before handing it back to the blond girl. "It won't taste very good, but it'll keep you alert."

Ashara couldn't help but smile at the face Kali made when she drank the water; she put the vial back in her pack and caught Tamlen's curious look. She shrugged; she couldn't blame Kali for wanting to stay awake in a camp full of strange _shemlen_. She and Tamlen were doing the exact same thing. The girl might allow _shemlen_ to abuse and mistreat her, but there was something about her that made Ashara want to help. It really didn't make any sense, but Ashara didn't really feel like exploring it. At least now Kali would be awake when the battle came, and wouldn't get them all killed through a mistake.

So while the rest of the camp slowly grew quiet and the humans started to fall asleep, the three elves remained staring into the fire, barely talking as each was lost in their own thoughts. Ashara slowly leaned into Tamlen and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling comforted as his arm snaked around her waist. Tomorrow they would undergo the Joining and enter into their fist battle as Grey Wardens. No one would tell them much about the Joining, but Ashara had a feeling that it was dangerous.

She narrowed her eyes and settled closer to Tamlen, drawing comfort from the warmth of his body. Whatever happened, she was Dalish. And she would meet her destiny the way a Dalish should.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translation:<strong>  
>Andaran atish'an - a formal greeting<br>_

_I did a lot of research on what people ate in the medieval time, and apparently they thought that eating fresh fruits or vegetables was bad for a person. They thought that the only way to purify such things were to bake or boil them. Also, they called vegetables 'herbs', so when Ashara demanded herbs from the cooks, she was referring to vegetables. Technically salad vegetables. _

_I hope the fighting scene turned out well, and was understandable. I'm still learning to write battles, so please let me know if you have any comments/suggestions. I wanted Kali to be the one that surprised everyone; it's pretty obvious that Ashara has a violent streak and an arrogant attitude, so I figure it was assumed that she could handle herself, whereas Kali's more the type to seem really passive; most people who see her expect that she's easily taken advantage of. _

_I want to send a big thanks to Legionary Prime, Shakespira, and Auroraas for the reviews. Shakespira especially has been a huge help, making comments and suggestions. And her Joss Amell series is a huge inspiration. Also, thank you to all of those who requested alerts, favorited the story, or are simply reading. It really means a lot :D_


	9. Mist and Mystery

_Many many thanks to my amazing new beta, Kira Ta__marion. Already she's patiently edited and touched up this chapter, and given me some wonderful advice_

* * *

><p><strong>Mist and Mystery<strong>

Ashara closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, sighing contently as she felt the cool air wrap itself around her. She wanted to kick her feet up like a _da'len_ and run so fast that she could feel the wind blowing through her hair. She wanted to skip through the trees and sing as loud as she could. But, for the moment she would have to curb her happiness. They had a job to do. A rather morbid job, actually.

The sun had scarcely risen when Duncan began the task of waking of everyone to begin the day. Or, more accurately, just Daveth and Jory, since Ashara, Tamlen, and Kali had never fallen asleep. Kali had spent the night staring into the fire and, _Mythal _bless her, said not one word even after Ashara and Tamlen had disappeared for some... alone time. But, Ashara did notice that the girl's cheeks were flaming red by the time they returned. It was so reminiscent of Merrill, that Ashara felt a sharp pang of longing for her Clan.

After waking everyone up, and earning some quite colorful curses from Daveth along the way, Duncan had brought the group of new recruits, as well as Alistair, together to explain that they were to prepare for the Joining ritual. While he wouldn't give much detail about the ritual itself, he instructed them to journey out into the Wilds and collect five vials of darkspawn blood. He also requested that they try to seek out an old Warden outpost, where they would find treaties promising support in the days to come.

The moment Ashara had set foot outside that horrid Imperium structure, she felt her heart lift. If she closed her eyes and tuned out the humans whispering obnoxiously behind her, it was almost as if she was home again. She could feel the soft grass beneath her boots; the cool mist wrapped itself around her skin, and she could hear the wind rustling through the trees.

Of course, as soon as they actually ventured further into the forest, the image of being home was quickly shattered, for it was clear that the darkspawn had taken over the Wilds. The remnants of their victims were spread everywhere Ashara looked. Apparently, they were even more monstrous than Duncan had said; they liked to play with their victims like a cat teasing a mouse, and weren't content with simply killing the humans who had come out here to scout. At times they impaled the _shemlen _on large sticks, at others they just ripped their limbs apart.

_Just my luck. Tamlen and I finally have an opportunity to get away from that disgusting stench of humans, only to find ourselves in a scene straight from the abyss. _Fen'Harel _must be laughing his tail off._

The rest of their companions weren't helping the matter. Ashara wished that Duncan would have just allowed her and Tamlen to go into the Wilds by themselves to collect the blood, but he kept rattling on about how it was "part of their Joining". Whatever that meant. She didn't much see how killing darkspawn was part of their ritual–certainly they'd be killing plenty more after the Joining–but there wasn't much she could do except reluctantly nod.

So of course, what should have been an easy task turned into one annoying headache after another. The worst moment was when Kali accidentally stepped on a lone arm. It took a moment to register that the arm wasn't attached to a body but once it did, the girl screamed and jumped back so fast she barreled into Alistair and knocked him on his behind. The grass itself was drenched in blood, so now his entire backside was covered in it.

Clearly shaken by the experience, the little rogue kept twitching and wringing her hands together anxiously; Ashara decided to convince her to chew on some dried pasque flower petals to help ease her nerves. The effect seemed to work fine; while Kali was still a bit nervous, at least she wasn't jumping at the slightest movement and yelping constantly. Now she could focus on the task at hand.

Ashara rubbed her throbbing temple, wishing that she could do something about Daveth and Jory. The two idiots were muttering about all sorts of inane superstitions. There were whispers about more darkspawn, barbarians, and even something about a witch. Alistair was trying to calm them down, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Even his argument about being able to sense darkspawn had fallen on deaf ears.

It wasn't like they were helpless. They already had the vials of blood; all that was left was finding the Warden outpost. But, that didn't seem to matter to these _soren shemlen_, who grew more and more nervous as each moment passed. Ashara didn't want to waste the rest of her pasque flowers, so she settled for simply trying to ignore them. But, they were making it very difficult.

"Look, all I'm sayin' is we have the blood," Daveth whined. Ashara didn't even know it was possible for a man's voice to reach such a high pitch. "Didn't Duncan say to bring the treaties _if _we find 'em? What if we don't?"

Tamlen tore his gaze away from the clearing, where he had been keeping a watch out for enemies, and speared Daveth with an angry look. "Fine, _shem_. If you want to give up and run back to Duncan and the safety of walls, no one here will stop you."

Ashara nodded her head in agreement. They were given a task, and they should fulfill that task. No Dalish would ever shrink from their responsibilities. Even if it took them all day, they could not return to Duncan and tell him that they had failed.

Alistair, who was trying to figure out the map–the map that was supposed to lead them to the Warden outpost–looked up. "Hey, there's no need for all that. Duncan asked us to find the outpost, so we'll try to find it. If we don't, then we'll go back."

Jory shifted his large sword and glanced nervously over his shoulder. "But, what if the Chasind come? Isn't this their forest? They don't like intruders."

Ashara scoffed. So that's what they meant by barbarians. She should have guessed. "The Chasind aren't going to attack us."

"How do you know?" Daveth countered.

She raised her eyes to the sky, begging _Mythal _to help her deal with these idiots. "I know, because the Dalish used to camp here." She grit her teeth. Among her Clan, she was rarely questioned; it was largely assumed that if she ventured an opinion, it was the right one. Marethari was a wise woman and the Clan trusted her to teach their next Keeper well. Ashara did _not _like being questioned now, especially by weak _shemlen_ afraid of their own shadows. "If we do run into Chasind, they will recognize Tamlen and I as Dalish, and will not attack."

"The Dalish camp here?" Kali inquired, still nibbling on the flower petal. She appeared to like both the taste, and its affect on her. "Do your people travel all over Ferelden?"

"Not really," Ashara said. "Our Clan generally stays towards the east, but there _are_ Clans scattered across the country; one of them used to camp here in the Wilds."

"Alistair, the king's army has been at Ostagar for weeks now," Jory said. Apparently he had more important things on his mind than where the Dalish camped. No real surprise there. "Haven't you been sent out here to scout?"

"No, only the Ash Warriors come into the Wilds," Alistair replied, never taking his eyes from the map. Ashara wondered if it would suddenly make sense the twelfth time he studied it.

"Oh, look at this!" Kali gasped. Ashara glanced over to see her knelt down near a rotting log, peering at a white and red flower. "Ashara, do you know what this flower is called?"

Ashara walked over and inspected it. "Hmm... I think that's a Wild's Flower. There are some in the Brecilian Forest, but they're pretty rare." She plucked the flower and held it to her nose. "Yes, I'm sure this is it. The petals can be made into an ointment that is absorbed into the skin and purifies the blood."

Kali sat back on her heels and looked up at Ashara. "The kennel master back at the camp described it to me and asked if I could find one for him. One of his mabari is sick; he said the flower could heal the poor dog."

Ashara handed the flower to the little rogue, who carefully put it in the pack at her hip. "I hope this works. That poor dog was so sick; I felt so bad for him."

Jory sighed heavily, obviously too lost in his own panicked thoughts to pay attention to anything else that was going on. Or perhaps he was just too stupid to hold more than one thought at a time. "Maybe Daveth is right: we should go back. We have no idea where this outpost is and the battle is to start tonight. We don't have much time."

Tamlen hopped down from the rock he had been standing on and gave Ashara a long look. "Ashara, do you think you could find it?"

"How is she supposed to know where we're going?" Jory asked.

Ashara ignored the _shem_; she stared at Tamlen with a curious look. Did he mean... was he really asking her to use Dalish magic? In front of _shemlen_? But, he only shrugged. "Well, we need to find that outpost, and we've already been here for hours. Nothing else we've tried has worked; it's the only thing left to do."

Much as she didn't like it, she could see that he had a point. "I guess that made sense." She twisted around to glare at the _shemlen_. If she must do this, she would not allow them to see it. "You three, turn around!"

"What are you talking about? Why?" Confusion was etched on Alistair's face.

"You don't need to understand, just do as I say and turn around!" She was _really_ getting tired of being questioned. When they continued to hesitate, she put her hands on her hips and tutted impatiently. "Look, you can either turn around and let me find this Warden outpost, or we can continue to run around in circles. Your choice."

They finally relented, and Ashara glanced at Tamlen. "Watch them for me."

"Do I need to turn around too?" Kali asked curiously.

"No, you are _Elvhen_." If Ashara had to use the ancient _Elvhenan_ magic, she could not allow _shemlen_ to see it. The Dalish guarded their ancient magic jealously; Keeper Marethari had once told her that if the humans ever discovered their skills, they would try to take it like they took everything else. But Kali was of the _Elvhen_; even if she had turned her back on her rich history, her ancestors had still descended from the glorious _Arlathan._

She walked over to a very large oak tree; she could see that the tree had stood rooted to the spot for at least a hundred years, if not more. It was perfect, and should have what she needed. She stuck her hand out and pressed her palm against the friendly, rough bark, muttering the ancient spell under her breath so that the _shemlen_ couldn't hear. Though even if they did, the words would make no sense to them.

Visions swam in her mind's eye. It was magic left over from the days of _Arlathan_, to see the past of this forest. This tree had sat in this same spot for years, had soaked up the memories of its home as surely as its roots absorbed water. And to those who knew how to listen, it was willing to share its history. She saw the _Elvhenan_–a Clan separate from her own–as they went about their daily tasks. They were so similar to her own Clan that she felt her heart twist. Then, the image was replaced by two men; one light, one dark. They stood before a woman that she couldn't see.

But, before she could make out any details of the image, the vision blurred and became a battle. Men in gleaming armor raced through the trees, shouting words she couldn't hear. Behind them she could see what looked like a fortress, standing tall and proud in a clearing on a hill. That must be the Warden outpost, which meant that these men were Grey Wardens. She ignored the memories of men rushing towards their deaths, and saw the setting sun dipping behind the fortress. It was exactly what she needed.

She pulled her hand away from the tree and lowered her head respectfully, her voice a whisper. "_Ma serannas_. _Abelas_, I have nothing to offer but my thanks." Normally after such an action, it was customary to leave an offering of gratitude, perhaps some scattered water to help the roots grow strong. But she had nothing with her, and the water here was too contaminated to be of any use. Hopefully _Andruil _and _Sylaise _would understand.

She turned to see Kali watching her; the little rogue's sandy brows were furrowed together quizzically, but Ashara didn't risk explaining the magic to her. Instead, she looked at the three men who continued to stand with their backs to her. "The outpost is to the west."

Alistair twisted around. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

"Well, we haven't come up with any other solution," he ruled. "We might as well head towards the west and see if we find it."

Tamlen slipped his bow over his shoulder and started walking, not bothering to check and see if anyone was following him; he knew that they were. Kali kept checking her pack to make sure that the Wilds flower wasn't being crushed. She had finished eating the pasque petals that Ashara had given her, and her hands started fluttering around nervously, longing for something to do, to distract her.

"So Ashara, are there many Dalish mages?" she asked curiously.

Ashara glanced at the little rogue. Did she really want to know about her kin, or was she just trying to divert herself from her nervousness? Well, it didn't matter. Keeper Marethari once said that it was the duty of the _Elvhenan_ to help the flat-ears remember who they were, and what they had lost. In their turn, the flat-ears would help the Dalish learn how to deal with _shemlen_. Through such teachings, they would be better equipped to find land of their own again.

"Once, all of the _Elvhen_ had the gift of magic," she said carefully. She could not reveal too much with the humans nearby. "But, like so much else, it was lost. There are only a few mages now."

"Do the Dalish not worry about demons?" Jory asked anxiously. By the Creators, was there anything this man _wasn't_ afraid of?

Ashara lifted her chin and ignored him; she didn't owe him any answers. He wasn't _Elvhen_. But Tamlen laughed mockingly. "Why would our people worry about demons? Our Keepers are trained well; they know better than to trust anything in the Beyond."

"Oh look, there's the outpost," Alistair said gratefully. He had a wrinkle in his forehead that hinted towards his weariness at the group of them. Ashara shook her head; see, this was exactly why Duncan should have chosen someone else to guide them. Alistair acted like he had no experience with commanding people, so how could Duncan have expected him to keep everyone in line? Certainly she and Tamlen weren't going to listen to anything he said.

Though, now that she thought about it, she found herself wondering why the Grey Wardens did half of the the things they did. Take this outpost, for example. They climbed the hill, and Ashara saw that while it was well place to see miles around–enabling them to avoid surprise attacks–the place had been abandoned. What had once been a strong fortress was not only a crumbling ruin, left for all manners of creators to take it. Why would the Wardens do such a thing?

"I think that's the cache." Kali pointed to a broken chest in the corner of what looked to have once been a large room. Ashara doubted that the treaties were still there; she couldn't feel any magic from the chest. If the Grey Wardens _did _put seals on it, they had long since faded. Kali went over to inspect the chest and, sure enough, it was empty. Well, so much for that plan.

"Well, well, what have we here?" A female voice floated to them; Ashara's head snapped up and she saw a _shemlen_ woman descending a staircase. She sauntered down the stairs slowly, as if she had all the time in the world, while her eyes took in the sight of them.

Ashara studied the woman, trying to decide if she was an enemy. She was obviously a mage; Ashara could feel power rolling off the woman's skin, but she was no Chasind. Was she an apostate, then? The Keeper had said that humans locked their mages away in the Tower as if ashamed of them, but that there were plenty of mages who fought against it.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones have long since been cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" The woman stopped a few feet in front of them and crossed her arms, assuming a commanding stance. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger, or intruder?"

Ashara ran through her options quickly; it was strange that this woman appeared right when they came to the Warden outpost. She didn't hold herself in a threatening pose, so she probably wasn't going to attack them. Well, there could be no harm in answering what was a simple question. She took a step closer to the woman, and saw her gold eyes study her. "We are Grey Wardens, come to find papers that were once housed in this tower," Ashara said.

"A Dalish mage," the woman remarked thoughtfully. Not only did she recognize Ashara's Dalish tattoo, but she was able to feel her power. Whoever it was that trained this woman did a very fine job. "I wonder how you come to be among such companions."

Alistair stepped up to Ashara and lowered her voice. "Don't answer her. She looks Chasind, and that means others might be nearby."

No, this woman was not Chasind. And if she lived in these Wilds, then most likely she would have encountered the Dalish at some point or another. Ashara's mind quickly ran through all of the stories she had heard from other Clans, but couldn't recall hearing about a young, raven-haired woman that lived in the Wilds.

In the end, Ashara decided to test her. "_Andaran atish'an_. I am Ashara, of the Sabrae Clan."

The woman smiled; she obviously knew some of the _Elvhenan _language, which proved Ashara's thought that she had dealt with the Dalish before. Obviously, she was worthy of being treated with respect. If not, the Dalish would not have left her alive. "Now, that _is_ a proper greeting, even here in the Wilds," the woman said. "You may call me Morrigan. I can guess your purpose; you sought something in that chest. Something that is here no longer."

Alistair took a step closer, frowning deeply. "You took them, didn't you? Those treaties are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them!" Ashara fought the urge to sigh; _now_ he decided to show a backbone? Why couldn't he just shut up and let her deal with this?

Morrigan turned her attention to Alistair, raising an eyebrow. "I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer; I am not afraid."

"Who removed them?" Tamlen asked, impatience in his voice. Ashara knew that he wanted to be done with this whole business; Tamlen was never one to sit around and talk. He preferred action.

" 'Twas my mother."

Her mother? Ashara found herself more and more intrigued by this woman. "Can you take us to her?"

Morrigan's eyes lit up with approval. "Now _there _is a sensible request." She chuckled. "I like you."

"We shouldn't follow her!" Daveth suddenly squeaked, sounding so much like a mouse that Ashara had to push back the urge to make sure he was still a _shemlen_. "She's a Witch of the Wilds! She'll put us all in the pot!"

"Yes, because this woman has nothing else to eat," Tamlen snapped.

Morrigan let out a silky laugh. "Follow me, if it pleases you."

Ashara and Tamlen followed Morrigan through the trees, while the rest of the group reluctantly followed. She could hear Jory and Daveth rapidly whispering to Alistair that they were going to be killed. How did they ever think they would manage to become Grey Wardens? If these were the type of men that Duncan felt would make honorable Wardens, Ashara thought that she should feel insulted.

Kali quickened her pace to catch up with her, nervously glancing at the back of Morrigan's head. "She's not really a witch, is she?"

Ashara looked at the little rogue. "Well, it depends on what your definition of a 'witch' is. Certainly, she's as much a mage as I am, and she obviously wishes to keep herself protected from your Chantry. My people behave the same way, so if that makes her a witch, then I would be one as well." She shrugged. "If you think that she's a witch simply because she strays away from your Chantry and their beliefs, then it is only your fear and superstition talking." She indicated her head to Jory and Daveth. "That's what makes them so afraid. They fear what they don't understand."

Kali grew quiet as the group of them continued to follow Morrigan. Jory and Daveth wouldn't stop whispering fearfully, and Ashara really wanted to freeze their mouths shut. Really, would anyone have a problem with that? Aside from Daveth and Jory themselves, of course.

After a time, the Wilds opened to a clearing that contained a run down little hut. An old woman stood before the small home, and Ashara could instantly feel waves of power rolling off her. She was ancient, far older even that she looked, and was by far the most powerful being that Ashara had ever encountered. She was stronger even than the Keeper.

"Greetings, Mother." Morrigan walked right up to the old woman and stood beside her. "I bring before you some of the Grey Wardens."

The old woman nodded and studied them thoughtfully, and Ashara was suddenly reminded of stories she had heard by the Clan's fires. Yes, now that she was close the woman she recognized her, though she had never met her before. But, Ashara was almost positive that it was the same woman Marethari and _Hahren _Paivel had spoken of. An old woman with great power, who had lived for so long that she knew the _Elvhenan_ history as well as the Dalish. It only took one look in her eyes–yellow, cunning and dangerous like a wolf's–and Ashara knew that she was right; this was the ancient woman she had been told of.

"_Andaran atish'an, Asha'belannar_." Ashara lowered her head slightly.

"_Asha'belannar_? Tamlen asked, for once caught off guard. "This is her?" He knew of the stories as well as Ashara did, and curtly nodded to the woman. The Dalish owed her much.

_Asha'belannar_ smiled, shifting her yellow gaze from Tamlen to Ashara. "Two of the People. How... interesting." Her golden eyes found and caught Ashara's; there seemed to be some sort of message _Asha'belannar_ was trying to convey, but for the life of her Ashara couldn't understand it. All the old woman said was: "Do you know what I am, beyond that title?"

Ashara lifted her chin. _Asha'belannar_ was ancient and powerful, and the Dalish held her in high respect, but Ashara did not like others trying to see into her mind. "I know that you are called Flemeth, and that you are well known to the _Elvhenan_."

"Flemeth?" Daveth suddenly shrieked. Ashara briefly wondered if he'd lose his voice if he kept squealing like that. Could she be that lucky? "She'll turn us all into toads!"

"Um, if she's really a witch do you want to make her mad?" Kali ventured quietly. "Maybe you shouldn't call her such rude names." Her hands were tangled together, but Ashara could hear the slightest trace of firmness in her voice. Perhaps there was hope for the flat-ear after all.

_Asha'belannar_ studied the little rogue thoughtfully. "Now there is a smart lass, but it is sadly irrelevant to the greater matters." The old woman shrugged. "Believe what you will."

"Believed or not, there are some things that must be accepted," Ashara said, repeating something the Keeper had once told her.

_Asha'belannar_ turned her sharp eyes to her. "And do you accept what you see?"

Ashara could feel the hum of a warning somewhere in her mind, but couldn't figure out what it was. _Asha'belannar_ was friend to the _Elvhenan_; why, then, did Ashara feel like the old woman was testing her?

She remembered Marethari's words, drilled into her mind through hours upon hours of training. " 'What the eyes see and the ears hear, the mind believes.' If I simply accepted what I saw, I would stumble through life blindly."

_Asha'belannar_ smiled widely. "Such a clever girl."

Ashara was beginning to feel like the old woman was toying with her, and she didn't like it. "Clever or not, we need those treaties. Do you have them?"

_Asha'belannar_ laughed. "Why, yes I do!" She bent to pick up a small stack of scrolls lying near the door to her hut. "And before you begin barking about your precious seals, they wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You-oh, you protected them?" Alistair exclaimed.

"Why not? Take them to your leaders and tell them that this Blight is a greater threat than they realize." She handed the scrolls to Ashara, who bowed her head.

"_Ma serannas_ for returning them."

"Wait, what do you mean this Blight is greater than they realize?" Alistair demanded.

"Either the Blight is greater than they know, or they know nothing of the Blight," _Asha'belannar_ replied, as if it was the most sensible thing in the world. Her laughter echoed against the trees. "Oh do not mind me! You have what you came for."

Ashara glanced at Morrigan, who watched them all with a smirk. "Might you guide us back? We don't know the way?" And she didn't feel like running around in circles again with these idiot _shemlen_.

"Very well," Morrigan agreed. "Follow me."

_Asha'belannar_ watched silently, a mocking smile on her wizened face, as the group of them followed Morrigan back through the forest. Ashara could feel her powerful gaze on their backs, as if she could see into their souls, until they rounded a corner and the clearing was wiped from view.

"Ashara, do you think that Duncan knew that Flemeth had the treaties?" Kali asked. She bit her bottom lip. "It just seems weird that right when we found out the treaties were gone, Morrigan showed up to take us to the woman that had them."

Ashara looked curiously at the little rogue. She hadn't thought of that. Apparently, there was more inside that blonde head than she thought. "It's... possible, I suppose. Though I can't imagine what _Asha'belannar _would gain by aiding the Grey Wardens. From what I've been told, she never does anything without getting something in return."

Tamlen slowed his steps to match the two women. "Maybe the Blight threatens her as well."

It was possible, but _Hahren_ Paivel told many stories of _Asha'belannar_. The Clan was always amazed to hear tales of a powerful human woman who treated the _Elvhenan_ with respect, and loved to hear the stories of how she had aided their people. She was ancient and strong, and Paivel would talk long about her powers. If the stories were true, _Asha'belannar_ had been alive since the time of Tevinter. She had survived previous Blights; why should this one threaten her?

Well, it didn't matter, and Ashara didn't have time to dwell on it. They had more important thing to think about. And, as Morrigan faded into the shadows, having lead them to the path to Ostagar, Ashara's mind turned to the Joining ritual and the battle ahead. She'd wonder about _Asha'belannar_ later, provided they survived until morning.

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><p><strong><em>Translations:<br>_**_da'len - little child  
>soren - insulting adjective; most closely compared to 'idiot'<br>ma serannas - thank you  
>abelas - an apology<br>Andruil - Goddess of the Hunt  
>Sylaise - Goddess of the Forest<br>andaran atish'an - formal greeting  
>Asha'belannar - 'woman of many years'; name the Dalish have for Flemeth<br>Fen'Harel - the Dread Wolf; the Trickster  
>Elvhen - name for the elves<br>Elvhenan - name for the elven civilization before the arrival of humans; the Dalish word for themselves in reference to them being the 'only true elves'  
>hahren - elder, used as a sign of respect<br>_

_**A/N:** Many thanks to Prince of Madness 54, Legionary Prime, and Shakespira for their reviews and encouragement. Also, thanks to all of you requesting alerts, marking as favorite, or just reading. It means a lot_


	10. What's Right is Wrong

_Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta, Kira Tamarion. Not only did she patiently deal with my 'its vs. it's' problem, but she also gave me some wonderful advice to help fine tune the details of Kali's fighting style. She's truly a gifted writer; if you haven't checked out her work, you really should do so._

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><p><strong>What's Right is Wrong<strong>

Kali was waiting.

The entire army was waiting.

"I didn't realize there were so many _shemlen_ here," Ashara whispered, her eyes huge.

The two women stood next to each other, looking down from the thick stone bridge to the valley below, where the king's army stood with the Grey Wardens. Kali studied the waves upon waves of humans clustered together like a sea of metal. She had never before seen so many humans in one place and felt certain that the battle would be won. There were thousands of them! How could they not defeat a horde of darkspawn, no matter how big?

Night had fallen like a thick curtain, and the battle was about to begin. Kali felt a knot in her stomach betraying her anxiety, but maybe that was just the spell Ashara had cast on her, Alistair, and Tamlen's weapons. She said it would help their blades pierce through enemy armor; Kali could feel the waves of energy throb against her waist, where her daggers were hooked to her belt. Maybe that's what was making her anxious.

Or maybe it was just her own confusing thoughts. When she was a little girl, sitting at the table while she listened to Mama sing and dance around the house, she would never have guessed that one days she would be a Grey Warden, standing on a thick stone bridge, waiting for a battle to start. A battle that she was expected to take part in. Life had drastically changed in just a few short weeks, and Kali wasn't sure how to deal with it.

And the death... there was so much death everywhere; it followed after her like an angry ghost. First Lord Vaughan, which was her fault, then the dead men scattered all over the Wilds, and now Daveth and Jory. Kali bit her bottom lip and lowered her eyes. Those poor men; they hadn't done anything to deserve their fates. No one deserved to die like that.

After the witch had left them back to Ostagar, Duncan brought them all together and explained a bit more about the Joining ritual. It still made Kali shudder to think about it. The Grey Wardens actually _drank_ darkspawn blood! He said that if they survived, they would gain the power that all Grey Wardens had. With the taint coursing through their bodies, they would be able able to sense the darkspawn and would be protected against the corruption that contact with such evil creatures usually brought.

The mere thought of it had terrified and confused Kali. Drink blood? It sounded like something out of a horror story that Shianni would tell to scare Kali and Soris. And to know that they might not even survive it? What was the point of that? Was Kali taken away from her family, abandoning Father and Shianni, only to die a week later?

She had not been the only one apprehensive about it. Ser Jory had been close to panic, but Daveth had tried to talk the poor man down. He said that he would give anything to end the Blight, even his own life. But, Kali didn't see the purpose of it. What possible solution could come from someone dying after they drank blood? How did that help to end the Blight? How did that help _anyone_?

But, when Duncan came forward with the dark goblet of blood and Alistair had spoken the words of the Joining, Daveth was the first one to step forward. There were none of Kali's doubts on his face as he grabbed the goblet from Duncan and took a deep drink.

It didn't end well.

As soon as he swallowed, it was obvious even to Kali that something was wrong. He started choking; his eyes turned white as he began clutching as his throat, his nails digging into his skin as if to rip his flesh out. It was a horrific and pitiful scene, as Kali watched his legs buckle and heard the harsh crunch of his body slamming into the ground. His hands started clawing at the stone, trying in vain to reach towards anyone who could help them. But, there was nothing any of them could do, and soon Daveth was still.

His death seemed to fan the flames of fear in Jory. The knight began protesting, shouting that he needed to stay alive for his wife and child. Duncan tried to remind him that there was no turning back, that they had all sworn to give their lives to the Grey Wardens, but it did no good. Jory reached for his sword, and everything happened so fast after that. Before Kali even had time to register what was going on, Jory lay dead in a pool of his own blood.

Duncan had killed him.

When he turned from Jory's body, Kali thought that Duncan's black eyes looked shadowed with something, but in a flash it was gone, and she wasn't certain of what she had seen. He didn't say anything except that the Joining was not yet done, and then handed the goblet to Tamlen. Even Ashara and Alistair were expressionless; no one made any comment about the two dead men behind Duncan. Kali backed up against the wall; she didn't want to be around these people who could watch such deaths without even batting an eye. But there was no where for her to go. All she could do was watch Tamlen drink the blood. His face convulsed in pain, and his eyes turned as white as Daveth's had, but instead of grasping at his neck, he simply fainted backwards. Duncan took one look at the man and declared it a success.

That was when Duncan turned to her. With his hands still dripping with Jory's blood, he held out the goblet to Kali and told her to drink. She hadn't wanted to; she didn't want to take this last step down this dark path, but she didn't want Duncan to kill her.

So she took the goblet; it was the only thing she _could_ do. Her hands were shaking so much she almost spilled the contents, but she managed to lift the goblet to her mouth and take a drink. It was the most disgusting thing she had ever tasted, a bitter liquid that seared her insides with such heat that it felt cold. She almost spit it right back up, but somehow managed to force herself to swallow. She felt the burning liquid course through her entire body, turning her insides to ice and freezing the very blood in her veins.

Then, all of a sudden, the sky above her turned an eerie and sickly green. A giant black dragon sat on top of a cliff, screaming to the clouds. Its ebony scales glistened as if wet, and its strong wings seemed to stretch across the entire sky, blocking out the sun. Never in her life had she imagined such a creature; it was a nightmare straight form the Void itself. The dragon turned its head; she saw those soulless eyes staring right at her and heard herself scream.

That was the last thing she remembered, before opening her eyes to see Alistair hovering over her. She felt a huge knot in the back of her head, and realized that she must have fallen. After helping her to her feet, Alistair told her that she had done it. She was now a Grey Warden. But, she didn't feel proud, as Alistair seemed to expect. Actually, she didn't really feel like she had accomplished anything at all. She felt like she had just gotten lucky, which wasn't very encouraging when she thought about spending the rest of her life as a Grey Warden.

But, she _was _glad to see that in addition to Tamlen, Ashara had also survived. The two of them were clasping hands, and Tamlen was whispering something in her ear, words that made Ashara smile in a way that Kali had never seen before.

They were each given a pendant filled with darkspawn blood; Alistair said it was to remember those that hadn't made it that far. Kali slipped it over her neck. Even if she tried, she could never forget the sight of Daveth clawing at his throat, or Jory lying in his own blood.

After that, there was nothing left to do but prepare for the battle. The four of them were given the task of lighting the beacon at the top of the Tower of Ishal, a signal for Teyrn Loghain to attack with fresh troops. According to Duncan, Loghain would be critical in winning the battle. He said that Loghain would flank the darkspawn, trapping them in the middle of the valley where they could be destroyed.

Kali had no knowledge of warfare, so she had no clue if this was a good idea or not, but the moment that Duncan had given them their orders, Ashara, Tamlen, and Alistair had all launched into protests. Alistair and Tamlen didn't want to miss the battle, and Ashara claimed that her magic would be more useful on the field. But Duncan stayed firm; they were to go to the tower and signal for Loghain's men to arrive. They were each given a draft of warm liquid to energize them, and told to wait on the bridge to the tower.

So, Kali had three very grumpy companions at her side as they stood on the bridge, waiting for the battle to start. She took the opportunity to look down and see the wave of metal below her. The humans were all holding various weapons, some she had never even seen before, and she could see them shifting, eager for the fight.

A glint of something gold caught her eye, and she looked over to a ledge to see Duncan walking with King Cailan, standing side-by-side as if they were friends. The Grey Wardens must be powerful indeed, if the king himself stayed near their Commander during a battle! But, she was grateful that Duncan was away from them. She didn't want to be near him; all she could see was the knife in his hand as he stabbed Jory.

The king gestured to the north and Kali followed his gaze, where she saw a black wave of what must be darkspawn. There were thousands of them, some of them huge creatures with strangely curled horns. They looked like hounds held back from the hunt, eager to race towards their prey. With a sinking feeling, she suddenly thought that this army would not be enough to defeat the darkspawn. But, she must just be nervous, of course they would win. Alistair had said that as long as Loghain's troops attacked from the rear there was almost no way they could lose.

But despite that reassurance, she still closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. _Maker, please protect us._

The king shouted something, but even with her elven hearing she couldn't make it out. She figured it out soon enough though, as the mabari hounds were released and began charging at the darkspawn. What an awful thing to do, sending out dogs as the first wave of an attack! Those poor things were going to be slaughtered!

But, she didn't have time to see what happened, because Alistair was suddenlygripping her arm. "We need to go!"

She followed him, Ashara, and Tamlen across the bridge, dodging archers and catapults along the way. Giant balls of flame were being thrown onto the bridge; she had to duck and dive to avoid them as men around her were killed or knocked to the ground below. Kali tried her best to ignore their screams, instead focusing on the flutter of Ashara's skirt as the Dalish woman ran ahead of her. She clung to the sight of the dancing cloth as a drowning man might reach for a rope.

When they got to the other side of the bridge, Alistair was almost knocked off his feet by a man desperately trying to run the other way. The man was gasping for air and ripped the helmet off his head to see them better. "You, you're Grey Wardens? You must help us! The Tower-it's been taken!"

Alistair grabbed the man by his arms and shook him violently. "What are you talking about man? Taken how?"

The man pointed towards the tower. "The darkspawn... they came up from the lower levels. Most of the men are already dead."

Ashara tossed her long hair and almost seemed to be smiling. "Well, it looks like we won't miss the battle after all." She glided off from them, and Kali quickly caught up with her.

"Duncan must not have known that darkspawn were already here." She pulled her daggers out and felt the warm energy from Ashara's spell pulsing against her hands. "I wonder how they got here?"

"How much do you want to bet that Ostagar was built over underground tunnels?" There was laughter in the back of Ashara's voice. It was almost as if she was playing a game in which she had been cleverly outwitted. "You'd think _someone_ would have thought to ensure that the tunnels were closed."

"What do you mean?" Kali could hear her heart thudding in her chest; it was a wonder that no one else could hear it as well.

"Darkspawn live underground; if there are tunnels under this place then it gives them a way to get up here and attack us from behind, just as Loghain is planning to do to them." Ashara raised her violet eyes to the sky. "At the very least, the Grey Wardens should have thought of that."

"Which means we'll probably be facing a number of them, and won't have much time if we're to light this beacon." Tamlen was suddenly behind Ashara, notching an arrow as the four of them came to the entrance of the Tower.

Alistair stepped in front of everyone. "Ready?" At their nod he threw open the large double doors that lead to the inside of the Tower.

Inside was a scene from the Void. Dead bodies littered the large room, blood was splattered against the walls, the floor, and a group of darkspawn were huddled over a mass of bones. As the four of them entered, they lifted their gruesome heads, and after a sharp silence, they began to charge.

Alistair rushed to meet their attacks and after a dazed moment, Kali reminded herself to follow suit. She was a Grey Warden; fighting was to be part of her life now, and darkspawn were evil, unnatural creatures. There was no sin in slaughtering them, much as she hated violence. The steel daggers felt almost natural in her hands as she managed to slice the neck of one of the darkspawn.

As another one rushed to take its place she saw the flames from the lit torches raise themselves and shoot out around them. She ducked to avoid the tunnel of fire, and watched as the flames licked at the black flesh of the darkspawn coming towards her. The stench was almost unbearable, but Kali grabbed its arm and pulled it forward, and when it started to fall she twisted around to stab it in the back. When it didn't pick itself up she turned her attention to another one. It rushed at her with a hammer in its hands, and she ducked and rolled to avoid the blow. But, before she could twist and stab at it, an arrow was suddenly lodged in the darkspawn's torso.

Sweat poured down Kali's forehead from the inferno raging around her, but she managed to see that there were only two darkspawn left. She charged at one of them, who rushed to meet her own attack. But before it could hold up its shield to block her, she flung one of her daggers and watched as the blade planted itself into the darkspawn's head. It fell, and Kali glanced around; Alistair had managed to kill the remaining darkspawn but he was breathing heavily, and there was blood pouring down from a wound on his arm.

The flames slowly retreated, and Kali saw Ashara lower her staff while Kali went to retrieve her dagger from the dead darkspawn. The blade was covered in thick, black blood, and she wiped it off on the darkspawn's leather tunic, trying to clean it as much as she could so the blade wouldn't rust.

Tamlen hooked the bow over his shoulder and walked around the room, pulling his arrows out from the dead darkspawn and inspecting them to see if they were still intact while Ashara looked over the wound on Alistair's arm. "It's just a small cut," he said, and tried to pull away from her. But either he was hurt worse than Kali thought or Ashara was stronger than she looked; she didn't release her grip on his arm.

"Small or not, if you don't let me heal you it's only going to get worse. Then you're not going to be of use to any of us." She lifted her chin. "If you're slow and weak through your own idiocy, no one here will stop the next darkspawn from running you through."

Alistair reluctantly complied and she held her white palm over the cut; a swirl of blue energy swept out from her palm and curled around his forearm.

"How many darkspawn do you think are here?" Kali asked no one in particular. She wasn't really relishing the thought of more fighting. Maybe it was one of those, 'the more you did the more you got used to it,' kind of things. But somehow, she doubted that.

Ashara stepped away from Alistair and scanned the room. "I don't think there's any way to tell, unless Alistair can sense them?"

But Alistair shook his head, flexing his arm and inspecting the newly healed flesh where his wound had been. "I can't tell. This whole place reeks of darkspawn, but I can't pinpoint exactly how many there are."

Tamlen put the last of his arrows into his quiver and came to stand beside Ashara. There was a strange smirk on his face. Was he actually enjoying this? "Doesn't matter, we'll kill them like we did with these."

The four of them slowly made their way through the dark halls of the tower. The whole place seemed covered in shadows, and Kali felt a coil of fear settle in her stomach. Something was really wrong here, but what was it?

They climbed up the stairs to the second floor, where there were only a few scattered darkspawn. Between Tamlen's bow and Ashara's magic, they were picked off before they got too close, and Kali was starting to think that maybe the worst was over.

They came to a large door at the end of the hall, and Alistair glanced at the rest of them. "The beacon should be in this next room." He threw open the door, and let out a gasp.

One of those hideous large creatures with the curled horns was grotesquely ripping the limbs off of the dead humans at its feet. It was eating; it was actually eating the dead flesh! Kali recoiled in both fear and disgust as the monster lifted its gnarled head to them and let out a stomach-clenching roar. It had to be a darkspawn, but how in the Maker did it get up here?

Alistair raised his sword and shield, and let out a shout as he dove at the tainted creature. Chunks of ice, sent from Ashara's staff, began to fly past Kali's head as she raced after Alistair with her daggers out. The ice shattered against the monster's thick skin, and Kali had to avoid slipping on the ice as the chunks sprayed to the ground. This monster was huge; Kali's head only came up to its torso, but it seemed to have eyes only for Alistair. Maybe it was something about his metal armor, or maybe it was just that Alistair was much taller than the rest of them. Either way, the monster chased after him, and despite Alistair deflecting numerous blows, it finally managed to catch him. It picked the Warden up in his large hands and started slamming him against the walls and floor.

Kali was terrified that the monster was going to kill Alistair, but she managed in that moment to find an opening. While it stood its ground and punched the human repeatedly, she ran behind it and sliced through the skin on its calf. The monster let out a loud scream and dropped Alistair, who fell to the ground with a harsh thud. But Kali didn't have time to check on him, as the monster was now coming after her.

It kicked its feet out and she barely managed to duck in time to avoid the blow. She saw an arrow lodge itself in the monster's shoulder, and as it screamed and grabbed at it, a glowing red glyph suddenly appeared on the ground at its feet. Vibrant strands shot up and swirled around the monster; from its shouts Kali thought that it must be in extreme pain. It tried to stomp forward but got its massive feet tangled up, and fell down with a loud crunch. As soon as it hit the ground Kali ran up to it and slammed her dagger into its head. Blood spurted out, thick and disgusting, covering her arms and face with thick black goo. She could taste the repulsive blood in her mouth, almost like the Joining all over again, but at least the fight was over.

She wiped the blood off her daggers and tried to get the blood off her lips as she went to Alistair, to see if he was okay. He was groaning and trying to pick himself up. "Are you alright?" His face was so pale that she was afraid he was going to pass out.

"I'm fine." He pointed to a bundle of sticks against the opposite wall, in what looked like a fire pit. "Light the beacon!"

Ashara held out a palm to the bundle, and a ball of flame curled from her hand and shot towards the sticks. Fire crackled and rose up through the chute.

Alistair picked himself up and threw Kali a tired smile. "We did it!"

"Well, let's see if this Loghain will help as much as Duncan seems to think." Tamlen hooked the bow over his shoulder and gestured to a large open window. Kali hadn't even noticed it was there.

She walked over to the window, followed by the others, and peered down, where she could see that the battle below was still raging on. She could hear the loud roar of the hundreds of men fighting in the valley, and the clangs of swords and knives. She tore her eyes away from the fighting, to the trees behind, where she thought Loghain and his men would be hiding. "I don't understand; isn't Loghain supposed to attack now?"

But no one said anything. Kali looked from Ashara, to Tamlen, and finally to Alistair. They continued to stare at the battle below, but they each had a hesitant look in their eyes that made Kali's stomach drop. Something was wrong. Loghain was supposed to bring his fresh men into battle, to trap the darkspawn and cut off their escape. Where was he?

"Duncan!" Alistair suddenly shouted.

Kali looked back down to the battle and managed to find Duncan and King Cailan fighting against at least ten darkspawn. It was almost as if the Maker himself wanted Kali to see every horrid detail; despite the battle raging on around them, Duncan and King Cailan were together in a small clearing. Where were their men? Shouldn't the king have his guards around him to keep him safe?

As she watched, wide-eyed and horrified, she saw one of those large creatures with horns stomp up behind the king. Before King Cailan had any time to react, the monster had grabbed him and in one sickening movement, crushed his golden armor. With a flick of his giant wrist, the monster tossed him to the ground carelessly, where Kali could see that he wasn't moving. Her king was dead. It was only a matter of seconds, and her country had lost their leader. It didn't seem real, how could something like this just happen?

Alistair was screaming, and Kali watched helplessly as Duncan ran towards the monster that killed their king. He jumped into the air and caught it off guard, slamming his daggers into its collarbone. But as the monster fell, it became clear that Duncan himself was wounded. He was on his hands and knees on top of the creature; he didn't pick himself up, didn't pull his weapons out of the monster's flesh.

"DUNCAN!" Alistair was gripping the ledge of the window, almost in a panic. There was nothing anyone could do as a fresh wave of darkspawn suddenly swept over the field, obscuring Duncan from view. Kali knew in that moment that it was hopeless. He was gone. There was no way he could have the strength to fight off so many.

"No, no, no," Alistair whispered over and over.

Ashara suddenly pushed herself away from the window. "What do we do now?" She looked at Tamlen, her voice and gaze as calm as ever. Only the tight grip on her staff betrayed her anxiety. "Loghain's not coming and the army is going to die either way. Do we try to save ourselves? Or do we stay and fight to the death?"

Tamlen clenched his fists. "It doesn't help anyone if we die along with the army; we need to get ourselves to safety."

Alistair didn't move; he didn't even seem to hear them. Ashara and Tamlen exchanged a glance before looking at him, and Kali put a hand on his arm. He was in shock, but if they were going to sneak out then he needed to pull himself out of it. "Alistair? We need to go."

When he didn't move she tightened her grip and pulled him away from the window. He didn't fight her, didn't say anything at all. He simply allowed her to guide him, and she looked at Ashara and Tamlen. "How are we going to get past the horde?"

But before either of them could respond, the floor started shaking. Kali heard a low rumble that grew louder until what seemed like hundreds of darkspawn began pouring into the room, shouting and rushing straight at them. _No, this can't be happening!_ Kali let go of Alistair's arm and grabbed her daggers. There was no way they could survive this, but she had to try. She heard Alistair shouting something, but couldn't figure out what the words were as she rushed to meet these evil creatures.

She had barely taken three steps when a sharp pain hit her in the shoulder, and her left arm collapsed. She dropped her dagger as another sharp pain pierced her in the side of her stomach. With a cry, she fell to the ground, feeling the breath knocked out of her body as her back made contact with stone, and had a glimpse of an arrow sticking out of her side. She tried to reach towards the stab in her shoulder, to figure out the cause, but the effort was too much and her body went limp. This was it. She was going to die. _At least I'll be with Mama._ Pain lanced through Kali's chest as everything went black.

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><p><em><strong>AN:** I wrestled with the ending of this chapter for a bit, but I wanted the characters to actually see what happened to Duncan and King Cailan. I think it will bring out more passion and determination in the things that they do as the story progresses. _

_Anywho, right now the story is kind of following canon (except the whole Tamlen surviving part of course...oh, and I guess the part about both Tabris and Mahariel being the Wardens) and it will continue along that path until after the first treaty is gained. Once they get the first treaty, it'll start taking a turn towards AU. The reason I feel the need to state this is because I've had a couple people message me, asking if this was going to be a retelling, or an AU story. All I'll say is that it's both.  
><em>

_A big thank you goes to Shakespira, Prince of Madness 54, and Legionary Prime. As always, Shakespira is a big inspiration, and lately Prince has been a huge help as well, offering some wonderful suggestions and advice. And thank you to all of those reading, requesting alerts, or marking as favorite. It means so much to me!  
><em>


	11. Mouth of Madness

_Lots of thanks to my wonderful beta, Kira Tamarion for her patient help and wonderful support._

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><p><strong>Mouth of Madness<strong>

_Someone was screaming, wailing a heartbreaking cry of anguish and despair. _That poor girl_, Kali thought. _Someone needs to help her. _But still the pitiful sobs continued; it sounded like a girl so gutted by grief as to be driven almost insane. _Why won't anyone help her? _She noticed a metallic scent in the air, and glanced around to find the source. _

_Ringlets of white-gold hair, splattered with red droplets, lying limply on the wet ground caught her attention. Kali knelt down and touched the strands; the silky tendrils curled around her fingers, but the bright color was stained with the murky blots of dull red. It didn't make sense. The beautiful hair that she had once been so mesmerized by, how could it become so tainted? What happened to corrupt it like this? _

_She pulled her hand away, and as she studied the flecks of red now dotting her skin, Kali slowly realized that those wretched sobs were coming from her._

oOo

The world outside was bright. Kali could see light through her tightly closed eyes, and concluded that she must be dead. Would she be brought to the Maker's side, then? Would he forgive her for Lord Vaughan's murder? She couldn't be in Oblivion, doomed to wander aimlessly, could she? She had lived a relatively good life; she always tried to do the right thing, always tried to help people. No, she had to be with the Maker. She _had_ to see Mother again.

But... if she _was_ at the Maker's side, would she be plagued by these doubts? Wouldn't she feel a calm sense of safety and serenity? _This can't be right; I can't be doomed to the Fade. I'm a good person! It was only one horrible, terrible mistake!_ The Maker couldn't punish her for that, could he? She wouldn't know until she opened her eyes, and she was afraid to do that. If she was in the Fade, she didn't want to see it. But, she couldn't just lie here for eternity.

She finally gathered her courage and slowly opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. Her eyes began watering from the bright light, and as her vision cleared she realized that no, this wasn't the Fade. She was on a bed in a small room. She struggled to sit up, wincing at the stiffness in her left shoulder and the side of her stomach. She glanced over her body and saw that there was a bandage wrapped around her shoulder, chest, and stomach. Someone had taken her top off and dressed her wounds. The blood was gone from her skin; she smelled fresh and clean. Whoever bandaged her up had also apparently bathed her.

But where was she? And more importantly, how did she get here?

"Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased." A sleek voice drifted to Kali, and she looked up to see the woman from the Wilds, standing near a disheveled bookshelf, smiling down at her.

"M-Morrigan?" Kali managed to remember the witch's name in time, and looked around at the small home. Was this the inside of that old woman's hut? How in the Maker did Kali end up in the Wilds?

"Indeed. We are in the Wilds, where I am bandaging your wounds." Morrigan studied Kali thoughtfully. "Tell me: how does your memory fare? Do you remember Mother's rescue?"

Kali rubbed her throbbing temples. Her head was pounding; she could practically hear the pain beat against the back of her eyes. "Rescue? Do you mean from the tower?" It was so hard to think clearly. "I remember that we tried to leave, and then darkspawn poured through the door." She had felt sharp pain all over her body; it had felt like every inch of her skin was burning.

" 'Twas a close call, but Mother managed to rescue you and your friends from the top of the tower."

"My friends?" It seemed that she could only repeat questions dumbly. She couldn't remember where the others had been when the darkspawn attacked them. She remembered the shock and pain of watching Duncan and the army as they were overwhelmed. Then Tamlen had said something about leaving. But… why had they been so desperate to get out of there? "Your mother got them all to safety?"

"The two Dalish elves, and the suspicious, dim-witted human, yes." Morrigan gestured to the door. "They are outside by the fire; you are the last to wake from your injuries. Mother wished to speak with the four of you once all of you awoke."

Kali hesitated as the memories of King Cailan's death tumbled through her mind. Something important had happened, but she just couldn't remember it. The army was supposed to win; why didn't they? "Umm, Morrigan, are my memories correct? Was the army truly overwhelmed?" Her voice was barely audible, but Morrigan seemed to hear it just fine.

"Yes. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field, and so the darkspawn won that battle. The king and his army were destroyed." She shook her head, as if impatient. "Your idiot human friend is not taking it well."

That was it! Loghain was supposed to respond to the signal fire, but he never came. Kali closed her eyes and lowered her head, sending up a prayer for the soul of all those lost. How was it possible that King Cailan was dead? From everything that she had heard about Teyrn Loghain, he was a revered hero and beloved father-in-law to their king. Why would he betray the man who was practically his son? How would the country function?

_What will happen to the alienage?_ King Cailan might not have come to see where the elves lived, but many of them spoke fondly of him. They all knew that a man's character was judged on how he treated his servants, and the king was never cruel to his. Many people might comment that their king was a foolish boy, but Father said he was a good man, if a bit too idealistic. What would happen with a new leader? Most of the nobles treated elves in much the same way as Lord Vaughan; a new king could be disastrous.

Morrigan studied Kali's reaction carefully and let out a sigh, almost as if she had failed some test. "The others are waiting for you out by the fire. I suggest that you get dressed and speak with them. It is time for the four of you to take your leave."

Kali lifted her head and bit her bottom lip. It almost sounded like Morrigan didn't want them there. "O-okay. Umm, thank you for helping us, Morrigan."

Morrigan hesitated. "You are welcome. Though Mother did most of the work; I am no healer."

As the witch drifted to a little stove in the corner of the small hut, Kali glanced around and saw her mother's green shirt neatly folded on a nearby shelf. She picked it up and, ignoring her muscles protesting with every movement, slipped it over her torso cringing as the fabric made contact with her bruised skin, but tried to ignore it. The pain would go away eventually.

Her two daggers were lying on the same shelf that her shirt had been. They were shiny and clean, with no trace of blood or even a scratch on them. Did Morrigan clean them? Somehow, Kali had a hard time seeing such a haughty-looking woman bent over a blade, scouring it clean. Oh well, now wasn't the time to think about things like that. She had to talk to everyone else, to see what they should do. With the king dead, the country would be in an uproar; if all the Grey Wardens were gone, how would they defeat the Blight?

She grabbed her daggers and slipped outside; next to a fire she saw the old woman standing with Ashara, Tamlen, and Alistair. What was the old woman's name again? Maker, Kali was horrible with names. Everyone turned to look at her, and the old woman smiled. "See? Your fellow Grey Warden is fine." She glanced at Alistair. "You worry too much, young man."

Ashara actually smiled, but there was a glint in her violet eyes that seemed like she wasn't surprised to see Kali alive and well. Tamlen barely glanced at Kali, but Alistair almost started laughing. There was a strange edge to his laugh, though Kali couldn't figure out what it was. "You, you're alive! I thought for sure you'd be dead!"

Ashara tossed her hair. "I told you; the _Elvhen_ may seem fragile to your people, but we have a resilience that you _shemlen_ lack." Tamlen laughed, and Ashara slid him a mischievous smile.

Alistair shook his head and clenched his fists together, trying his best to ignore the two elves. He turned to Kali, as if she was the only one who would listen to him. "This still doesn't seem real. If not for Flemeth, we would have been dead on top of that tower. But now we're alive, and the king and Duncan are dead." His voice was thick; Kali found herself wondering if he was biting back tears.

But, what he said was true; everything almost felt like a bad dream. Any moment she half expected to wake up on her small mat, in Father's house. Shianni would be standing over her, scolding her and Soris for sleeping in, and everything would be normal again.

Tamlen sighed heavily; from the weary look in his blue eyes, Kali had the thought that he and Alistair must have been arguing back and forth for some time now. "Crying over it won't bring them back, _shem_. Besides, the Blight should be our concern now. Leave the dead where they are."

"But those men were important to Alistair," Kali said softly. She didn't really want to get into an argument with Tamlen, but it wasn't fair of him to be so cruel. Alistair was mourning those he cared about; it was natural to be sad after someone passed. She couldn't understand Tamlen's cold words.

The Dalish man turned his eyes to her. "It still doesn't change the fact that they're dead." His words were slow, almost if he was talking to a small child. "We don't have time to cry about those who were lost; we have a Blight to defeat."

Ashara glanced at Tamlen and nodded. "Tamlen's right. The Keeper said this Blight is real, and we can't let the darkspawn make their way to the Brecilian Forest." She turned her attention to the old woman, who returned the girl's intent gaze calmly. "But, I do need something explained to me first. We are grateful for what you have done _Asha'belannar_, but I have to admit I find myself a little confused by your actions. Why would you help us?"

The old woman, Flemeth, laughed. "Well, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying, now can we? It is the duty of Grey Wardens to unite the land against a Blight." She looked between the four of them. "Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

But still Ashara seemed hesitant. Kali didn't know what it was the Dalish woman was waiting for; all she did was twirl a lock of black hair around her finger. Finally, she spoke cautiously. "So… you saved us so that we could end this Blight? Would it not have made more sense to rescue Duncan? We are three new Wardens." She gestured to Alistair. "And one who doesn't know what he's doing."

Flemeth shrugged carelessly. "You were the easiest to reach. But still the question stands; will you do your duty and end this Blight?"

"But we _were_ fighting the darkspawn!" Alistair protested. "The King had almost defeated them, why would Loghain betray us?" Kali closed her eyes at the memory of the battle. She remembered the brief moment of hope after they lit the beacon, the faith that everything would be okay. But then, there was nothing, just an emptiness more hollow than anything she had ever felt before.

"Now _that_ is a good question." Flemeth's wise yellow eyes were sad. "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is a threat that he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat."

"The Archdemon," Alistair said.

Kali tilted her head. She had heard Duncan, and most of the Grey Wardens, make comments about this Archdemon, but had never been told what it was. "What exactly is an Archdemon?"

Ashara glanced at her. "Do you know much about the Tevinter Imperium?"

"Only a little." She knew that the Tevinter Imperium used to enslave the elves, and that it was Andraste who helped to free them.

"Well, from what the Keeper told me, when the Imperium was in power they would worship dragons, what we now call Old Gods." Ashara was thoughtful and spoke slowly, almost as if she was thinking about each word before she said it. "These Old Gods live underground, and at times become corrupted with the same taint found in darkspawn. When this happens, they storm the surface as Archdemons, leading a darkspawn horde. This is when a Blight occurs, such as now."

"So… the Archdemon is a dragon?"

Flemeth watched the two women carefully; she almost seemed to be holding back a smile. "An Archdemon is much more than a simple dragon. But for your purposes yes, think of it as a dragon. It will make things easy for you."

Tamlen stole a glance at Ashara. "Then, I guess our job is to kill this Archdemon."

"By _ourselves_?" Alistair suddenly blurted out. "The Grey Wardens have never killed an Archdemon without a half dozen armies at their backs. I don't think the four of us are going to be able to just waltz up and tap it on the nose."

Ashara raised an eyebrow and lifted her chin. "And you have a better idea?"

"We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to Arl Eamon!" Alistair's look was firm. "He wasn't at Ostagar, he still has all of his troops. And he was Cailan's uncle; he'd never stand for what Loghain did!"

Ashara let out a sudden laugh; she seemed genuinely amused by Alistair's comment. "Oh yes! Let us put our trust in another _shemlen_ lord!" She covered her mouth with a white hand, and continued to snicker. "Loghain did such a wonderful job, after all!"

Alistair balled his hands, and Kali was sure she saw his eyebrow twitch. He was really angry. "Arl Eamon would _never_ do what Loghain did! I know him; he's a good man!"

Kali had a sudden thought as she watched Flemeth smile in amusement at the exchange. The last time they had met this old woman, she had had the treaties that Duncan had asked them to find. He said they would be useful to the Grey Wardens, and maybe if the four of them could find the treaties again, they could still be of help. She nervously twisted her hands together, hesitant to speak up. But Ashara and Alistair's bickering wasn't going to get them anywhere. "What about those treaties that Duncan wanted us to find? Did he say what they were? Maybe they could help us."

Flemeth's yellow eyes shifted to Kali, and she smiled. "Now _there_ is a smart girl." She laughed and pulled out a handful of scrolls from inside the large pocket of her dress. She handed the scrolls to Ashara, who promptly unrolled one of them and studied it.

Alistair gaped at the old woman. "How did you get those? They were in Duncan's possession!"

The old woman smiled. "Old Flemeth knows a trick or two." That wasn't much of an answer, but she didn't seem inclined to say anything more.

Ashara frowned thoughtfully as she unrolled the remaining two scrolls. "Hmm… these treaties give Grey Wardens the right to demand aid from the _Durgen'len_, the mages of the Circle Tower, and even the Dalish." Her eyebrows were raised and she glanced at Flemeth over the papers. "These groups would be powerful allies, provided that they honor these treaties."

"What are the _Durgen'len_?" The unfamiliar word felt awkward on Kali's tongue as she stumbled through it.

Tamlen shifted his bow. "The dwarves."

Flemeth crossed her arms. "I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows who else, this sounds like an army to me. Possibly an army large enough for your purpose."

"So can we do this?" Alistair's eyes lit up and his voice grew animated; he seemed eager. "Go to Redcliffe and all these other places and build an army?"

Tamlen laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it. "I don't think it'll be as easy as that. We'd have to find the leaders of these groups and convince them." He and Ashara exchanged a glance and he shrugged. "Though, I'm sure the _Elvhenan_ will help us. At the very least they'd be willing to listen to us."

Flemeth smiled at the two Dalish elves. "Yes, I am sure the People will be quite an asset to any battle against the Archdemon." Kali couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

Alistair's look was one of determination. "It's always been the Grey Wardens' duty to stand against the Blight. And right now, we're the only Grey Wardens left. So we'll do what we have to."

Ashara's lips twitched and she looked down her nose at the human man; there was laughter at the back of her voice. "Well, if we're going to scour the country for allies we should probably get started." She glanced at Flemeth and lowered her head. "_Ma serannas_, for all that you have done for us."

Flemeth held her hands up. "No, no, thank _you_." She smiled in a way that almost made Kali's skin crawl. There was something about this old woman that made Kali nervous, but she couldn't tell what it was. The old woman hadn't made any threatening gestures, or even raised her voice. On the contrary, she had been kind and helpful. So what was it about her that made Kali want to run away? "You are the Grey Wardens here, not I." She glanced at the door to her hut. "Now, before you go there _is_ one more thing I can offer you."

As if called, Morrigan drifted out of the hut and glided down the steps. "The stew is bubbling, Mother dear. Shall we have four guests for the eve." She glanced at the four of them. "Or none?"

"The Grey Wardens will be leaving shortly girl. And you will be joining them."

"Such a shame," Morrigan started. But, then her mother's words sank in and she twisted around to gape at Flemeth. "What?"

"You heard me girl. The last time I checked you had ears."

Ashara tapped a nail against her staff. "If Morrigan doesn't wish to join us, she certainly doesn't need to come." Her eyes traveled over Alistair and she lifted her chin. "We've already got one annoying nuisance to deal with. I doubt we need another."

Alistair shook his head. "You know, I _can_ hear you."

Ashara's eyes flicked over to him. "Really? I thought those ears of yours were too small to pick up any sounds."

Kali couldn't help but giggle, and Flemeth held her hands up to silence them all. "Morrigan's magic will be useful during your journey. Better still, she knows these Wilds and how to escape the bulk of the darkspawn horde."

"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan demanded.

The old woman studied her daughter thoughtfully. "You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for ages now. This is your chance." Her tone became serious. "Together, these four must unite the land against the Blight. Without you, they will surely fail. They need you, Morrigan."

Morrigan hesitated, and it was as if a myriad of thoughts passed between the two women. "I... understand." She looked defeated.

"And do you understand?" Flemeth turned her attention to the rest of them. "I give you that which I value above all else. I do this because you _must_ succeed."

Morrigan sighed very heavily. "Allow me to get my things, if you please." She walked back into the hut.

Kali watched as Flemeth studied Ashara out of the corner of her eye. Something seemed off, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Umm, Flemeth?" The old woman turned her attention to Kali. "If you see how dangerous this Blight is, how come you don't come with us too?" She swallowed nervously. "It… it just seems strange to send your daughter with us, but stay here yourself. Aren't you in danger, too?"

The old woman laughed. "Not at all! I look forward to the peace and quiet."

Kali frowned. That wasn't exactly an answer. Duncan had said that the darkspawn were appearing in the Wilds, which meant that most of them were gathering here. Ashara seemed to think that Flemeth was a powerful mage, but all the power in the world wouldn't stop the Blight, would it? So, Flemeth _would_ be in danger. Unless she was strong enough to keep herself safe; but if she was that strong, then why did she stay here? Wouldn't it make more sense to help them end the Blight? Or did she just not care about the Blight, or the destruction of Ferelden? But then, why would she send her daughter with them?

But, before Kali could say anything, Morrigan came out of the hut, carrying a small pack. She was clearly unhappy about the circumstances, but her voice was emotionless and she tried to keep her face expressionless. "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of here as your first stop. 'Tis a small village called Lothering, a minor stop along your Imperial Highway, where merchants gather to buy and sell their wares. You will find much that you need there." She lowered her eyes to hide the anger in them. "Or, if you prefer, I shall simply follow silently."

"So, are we really taking her along just because her mother says to?" Alistair asked.

"She'll probably prove more useful than you are," Tamlen mumbled to himself.

Ashara laughed, and turned her attention to the witch. "I am curious, Morrigan. Do you know much old magic?"

Morrigan's eyes lit up knowingly. "You speak of the old _Elvhen_ magic?" At Ashara's nod, Morrigan's smile widened. "I do not know much of the magic of the People; however I do know some old spells that Mother has collected." The two women studied each other approvingly, and it was as if they understood what was on the other's mind.

But Alistair continued to frown. "Is it really a good idea to take an apostate with us?" He looked at Ashara and Tamlen, and when neither of them would look at him, he glanced at Kali, who merely shook her head. Now wasn't the time to start complaining about bringing along another ally. Besides, Ashara seemed to think that the witch could be of help, and so far, she seemed to know what she was doing. From leading them to the Warden outpost, to helping them determine what to do in the Tower, Ashara seemed to have a decent grasp on what they should do next. Kali wasn't going to question her now.

As if she heard Kali's thoughts, Ashara tossed her hair. "Well, if you're coming let's go. This Blight isn't going to do us the favor of stopping itself."

Morrigan fit her pack over her shoulder and turned to Flemeth. "Farewell, Mother. Do not forget to take the stew off the fire; I would hate to return to a burned down hut."

Flemeth scoffed. "Bah! 'Tis far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, engulfed by the Blight." That didn't make sense; didn't Flemeth just act like she would be fine here in the Wilds? Kali was finding this old woman very hard to understand.

"I… all I meant was…" Morrigan stammered.

"Yes I know." Flemeth spoke a bit more gently. "Do try to have fun, dear."

Just like that it was done; the four of them now had an apostate mage to aid them. For some reason, Kali felt a bit more nervous around Morrigan than she did with Ashara. Even though they were both technically apostates, there was a sinister air around Morrigan, something the Dalish woman distinctly lacked. But, she didn't think Ashara would willingly bring along someone that would turn on them later. She seemed as determined as anyone to end the Blight; she and Tamlen were constantly talking about their Clan, and how they hoped their kin had escaped to the north. Kali felt secure that Ashara would try to end the Blight, if only to keep her people safe.

Well, hopefully Morrigan would prove as useful as Flemeth said, and Ashara seemed to expect, because this task ahead of them was already starting to look rather hopeless. They were going to need all the help they could find.

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><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Asha'belannar - lit: Woman of Many Years; a title given to Flemeth<br>Durgen'len - lit: Children of the Stone; the dwarves  
>Ma serannas - thank you<br>_

_**A/N:** The next couple chapters might get posted with only a few days in between them. Until next Friday I've got a lot of free time on my hands during the day, so I plan to spend that time writing some chapters._

_Many thanks to Shakespira, Legionary Prime, Prince of Madness 54, Sundanze, Kira Tamarion (my awesome beta), and Dr Gonzo for the reviews. You guys are awesome! And thanks to all of you requesting alerts, marking as favorite, or just reading. It means a lot!  
><em>


	12. In the Darkness is Light

_Lots of thanks to Kira Tamarion for all of her help and suggestions_

* * *

><p><strong>In the Darkness is Light<strong>

Ashara was really not enjoying the hike to Lothering. They were on a road that Morrigan had called the Imperial Highway. _Whatever trees there might have been, have long since been destroyed, all to create this vast expanse of road. Such a waste._ Ashara felt exposed, vulnerable to any one that might wish them dead. She was used to the haven of the forests, and while the expanse of open sky was a beautiful sight, it still made her nervous. There was nowhere to hide, no shelter to be had. Even Tamlen seemed anxious, constantly glancing over his shoulder with wary eyes.

She sped up to match his pace, and saw the tension in his arms. She understood him better than anyone in Thedas; she knew by his stiff posture, and the shadow in his eyes, that he blamed himself for all that had happened to them. Exploring the ruins, getting sick, being forced to abandon their Clan. For the second time in his life, he felt like he had failed their Clan. Nothing she said or did would convince him otherwise, but she would do what she could.

"The more I think about it, the more sure I am that we won't find our Clan again." She lowered her eyes. "I had hoped that with these treaties, we'd have an excuse to find Keeper Marethari. But... the Clan has gone too far north. We won't find them again, will we?"

Tamlen looked at her; his blue eyes softened and his voice grew gentle. "No, I don't think we'll find them again, _vulpasha_. You need to let them go." That was what he said, but she knew better than to believe it was that simple. He was aching for their home as much as she was, but he would never tell her that. He would rather bottle up his own pain, than let it out. But she understood Tamlen. If he felt he was helping her, he could heal himself.

He jerked his thumb behind them, where Alistair was walking silently, staring at his feet and consumed by his grief. "It's the same problem that the _shem_ has. We'll never be able to fight this Blight if we're longing for something that can't happen."

Ashara nodded; he was quite right. If there was one thing the Clan constantly taught to their children, it was that feelings must sometimes be put aside for the greater good. But that didn't mean it was easy. She let out a heavy sigh and glanced up at the fluffy white clouds. "So, the plan is to just find these groups of future allies, show them the treaties and hope they'll agree to aid us?" _Call me crazy, but this doesn't seem like the most reliable plan._

Tamlen shrugged. "It's really all we can do. If they don't agree to help us then we'll have to think of another way."

Kali came up beside Ashara and smiled at the two of them with the same, easy-going look she'd had on her face for hours. Her family must have brought her up on a diet of nothing but sweet fruit; Ashara didn't think she'd ever met anyone who was so innocent and mellow before. She was like a baby animal that you couldn't help but want to pet, like a fawn. But there was more to that young face than Kali let on, and Ashara was determined to figure it out.

Kali titled her head, and her cropped blonde hair bounced off her shoulders. "I'm sure we'll be able to get them to help us. Surely everyone will see the danger of the Blight, won't they?"

Before Ashara could respond, a sharp barking noise pierced the silence. She saw something rustling in the bushes and held her staff ready. _Creators, what now?_ A large dog suddenly shot out from behind the leaves and ran up to the group, barking and wagging his little nub tail. Kali squealed, causing Ashara to wince, and ran up to the dog. She fell to her knees and started scratching the dog's head and ears, to which it responded by licking her arms and face, causing Kali to collapse into giggles.

"I think this is the mabari that was sick at Ostagar!"

Ashara walked up to the two of them. She vaguely recalled Kali mentioning something about a sick dog. "How can you tell this is the same one?"

Kali rubbed the dog's ear, showing Ashara the chunk that was missing. "I remember his ear." She cupped the dog's face in her hands. "What are you doing out here, all by yourself?"

"I think he was looking for you," Alistair said. It was the first time he had spoken in hours. "Mabari tend to choose their own masters; it's called imprinting."

Kali was positively beaming. "Is that true, boy? Were you looking for me?" The dog's tail began wagging even more frantically, and he barked. "Aw, well, I guess you'll have to come with us then."

Morrigan was not pleased. "Tch. So we are to have a mangy beast following us around, then?"

"He's not mangy!" Kali frowned at the witch before turning her attention back to the dog. "Do you have a name, boy?" The dog snorted; Ashara thought it sounded suspiciously like a "no". Kali smiled. "Well, I'm going to call you Drake." She looked at Ashara. "He can come with us, can't he?"

Ashara knelt down next to Kali, and Drake promptly attacked her with sniffs and wags of his nonexistent tail. She ran a hand through his rough fur. "I don't see why not." She lifted his muzzle and saw his powerful jaw. "He certainly looks like a fine warrior." Drake barked happily.

Kali let out another squeal and flung her arms around the dog's powerful shoulders. "I've always wanted a dog, like the nobles have!" Drake let out another happy bark and began trotting down the road, turning every so often to make sure everyone was following him.

oOo

Ashara felt a mix of emotions when they finally reached the small village of Lothering. She was glad to be free from the vulnerability of the road, but she wasn't comfortable with so many _shemlen_ running around. As the group hiked to the entrance, Ashara took a moment to study the village. She had only seen a _shemlen_ village twice in her life. Once, when Master Ilen traded some of his lesser quality weapons with the humans. The second time… well, it was better not to think of that.

The homes were clustered near each other with no sense of organization, and she could see that most of them were run down, near to falling apart. She felt a spark of anger at seeing such homes; these _shems_ had their own land, and obviously didn't bother to care for it. Her people were forced to wander; never finding peace or rest, while these _shemlen_ took for granted what the Dalish would give their souls to have. How was it fair?

Alistair sighed heavily. "Well, Lothering. Pretty as a painting, isn't it?" _If by painting you mean random splashes of color thrown around by an impatient child._

Morrigan turned to Alistair with an amused look. "So, you have finally decided to join us, have you?" Her smirk widened. "Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?"

Alistair narrowed his eyes. Since leaving Flemeth's house, Morrigan had made a number of comments mocking his sorrow. So far, he hadn't responded to her taunting, but it seemed like that was about to change. "Is my being upset so hard for you to understand? Have you never lost someone close to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Morrigan chuckled. "Before or after I stopped laughing?"

"Right, very creepy. Forget I asked."

Morrigan wasn't the only one who felt impatient with Alistair; Ashara was fighting back an unkind urge to hit him with lightning, to shock some sense into him. Tamlen was right. They had a darkspawn horde to outrun, a group of allies to somehow convince to join together, and no real idea how to do this. There wasn't any time to wallow in sadness.

Besides, why should he be allowed to focus on his grief when she had to force back her own? He wasn't the only one hurting. Ashara missed her Clan fiercely; without them she felt as though a part of her had been stolen. She would give almost anything to hear Fenarel's contagious laughter, or Ashalle's soft singing. She longed for the Keeper's wisdom, and even missed Merrill's sharp words.

Ashara looked down her nose at the human. "I assume you've got something to say? So, say it."

Alistair rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I wanted to know what you intend to do from here."

Ashara raised an eyebrow. "You're leaving it up to me?" _Why am I not surprised?_

Tamlen came to stand beside her. "Well you _were_ First of the Clan; you've been trained to lead a group of people."

Ashara thought about his words for a moment, and inclined her head. If she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she'd rather that they choose her lead. Besides, who else was there? Alistair? The very idea was laughable. She knew that Tamlen wouldn't want to be the one to choose where to go; he was skilled at leading a group of warriors to the hunt, not deciding the best place to set up camp. Kali would probably wring her hands together and ask everyone else where they thought the group should go, and Morrigan was the daughter of _Asha'belannar_. Much as Ashara was growing to respect the woman's knowledge, she knew the witch was hiding her mother's true reasons for sending her with them, and wasn't exactly trustworthy. So who did that leave? Only Ashara.

She raised her chin and shrugged, as if she didn't care one way or the other. "If you don't want to be the one who decides, then I will." She caught Tamlen's barely suppressed snort of laughter. He knew her too well.

She looked around the small village, where she could see humans scurrying and rushing about in a panic. It seemed like they were well aware of the approaching darkspawn horde. "I think we should try to hear some news while we're here. Maybe someone knows of Grey Wardens that survived." If they were lucky, they could find some of the other Grey Wardens who might be able to help them. If they weren't, well then, they were no worse off. "But, I don't think we should tell anyone that we're Grey Wardens."

Morrigan nodded. "I agree. Let this Loghain believe that all Grey Wardens are dead for as long as possible."

Kali glanced around nervously. "You don't think Loghain would try to attack us, do you?" The very idea seemed to shock her. The contradiction between this nervous Kali, and the one Ashara had seen at the Tower was baffling. But, there would be time to understand the girl later. Drake flattened his ears and started growling, clearly voicing his own opinion of Loghain.

Tamlen looked at the blonde girl. "A man who betrays his leader and allows his people to die? I don't think he'd have any problems at all attacking us."

Kali visibly paled, and Ashara couldn't help but put a hand on the little rogue's thin shoulder. "We'll be careful, okay? He's not going to catch us off guard."

Kali nodded, and the group of them made their way into the village. While Alistair met with a merchant to purchase supplies and Morrigan inspected various runes for sale, Ashara found herself staring at a small _Elvhen_ family sitting in the dirt.

It disturbed her deeply to see such a thing, especially the little girl, who couldn't have been more than ten summers. Their clothes were filthy and they sat with their heads bowed, as if afraid to catch any attention. They reminded Ashara of a dog she had once seen, beaten into submission, and her annoyance rose. Why would her people choose to live in such a way, when they could live among the Dalish? It was not uncommon for flat-ears to run away from the city and seek them out; Ashara's own Clan had welcomed a flat-ear named Pol, and he was quickly becoming a trusted member of the Clan. Certainly the nomadic life was not by any means easy, but at least they would be among equals.

Beside her, Tamlen inhaled sharply. She stole a glance at him and saw that he was staring at the little girl with a barely concealed look of anger on his face. She followed his gaze and studied the girl; it was as if all the breath in her body had suddenly been knocked out of her. The girl's light brown hair was pulled into two braids, and the sadness on her face was so reminiscent of Tianna that Ashara had to lower her eyes.

Hardly aware of what she was doing, she slowly walked towards the small family; she barely even heard Tamlen and Kali trailing after her. The father jumped up as he noticed their approach. His mate followed suit slowly, raising their daughter that looked so much like Tianna. The three of them stared from Ashara to Kali, and finally to Tamlen, looking at their strange outfits and the weapons they were carrying. Their confusion was evident, but the parents bowed deeply, as if Ashara, Tamlen, and Kali were respected _hahren_.

"Greetings," the father started. As his eyes traveled over Ashara, taking in the details of her Keeper's ring and the quality of the wooden bracelets she wore, she saw his eyes widen. He knew she was no flat-ear. "Is there some way we can help you?"

Ashara barely heard him; she couldn't seem to stop staring at the little girl. She felt Tamlen standing behind her silently, and didn't need to look at him to know that his fists were clenched. The father cleared his throat audibly, and Ashara was jolted out of her thoughts. She pulled her eyes away from the girl and smiled calmly. "_Andaran atish'an_." He would never know from her sweet smile the pain and horror she was feeling.

"I have a question, if you don't mind." The father nodded. "My friends and I are traveling through, and we were curious to see so many humans around." She gestured to the outskirts of the town, where numerous tents had been hastily erected. _Might as well try to see what they know._ "Do you know what's going on?"

The mother stepped forward and whispered hastily, "The Grey Wardens betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar, and got the entire army killed. Thank Andraste that Teyrn Loghain saw the danger and pulled his men from battle before they too were slaughtered." She placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders, as if to shield her from the world. "But the darkspawn took the field and are marching north. Lothering will be their next target; we've had refugees coming in for days now, and they tell us that the horde could be here by tomorrow."

Kali gasped, and covered her mouth with her hands. "Loghain said the Grey Wardens betrayed the king?"

The father nodded. "Yes, and put a bounty on any surviving Wardens. They won't get away with leading our king to his death."

Ashara plastered her curious expression to her face, to keep her thoughts hidden. So, that was Loghain's game. He was going to wipe away any trace of his betrayal, so that there were no witnesses to his actions. _Rather clever of you, actually. I might do the same thing, were I in your position._

The little girl who looked so much like Tianna began crying, and her mother bent down to console her. Without thinking about her actions, Ashara reached into her pack and drew out a few coins, money Morrigan had taken from the victims of the darkspawn horde. Alistair and Kali had thought rifling through corpses was wrong, but Morrigan rightly pointed out that the dead bodies had no use for such material things anymore.

She had no idea what human coin was worth, but gold seemed better than silver, so she grasped the father's hand and pushed a few gold coins into his palm, curling his fingers over it. His eyes were wide and his mate slowly straightened up, staring at her. "What, what is this for?"

Ashara met his gaze. "Take these coins, and go somewhere safe. If you leave now, you should be able to escape the horde." He opened his mouth to speak, but she lifted a long white finger to halt him. "But if, on your way to another human city, you encounter a Clan of Dalish, you should tell them that Ashara of the Sabrae Clan sent you. They will welcome you among them."

The mother gasped. "Live with the Dalish?"

Ashara heard Tamlen shift. "You'd be free, and would live among equals." There was a strain in his voice; it almost sounded like he was angry.

She turned her attention back to the father. "Just… give them my name if you meet them." She shrugged. "But if you choose to go to another _shemlen_ city, those coins should help."

"Why would you do this?"

Ashara hesitated. She could hardly tell them truth. All she could do was place a shaky hand on the girl's soft hair. "I don't like to see a _da'len_ suffer. But, you have to go now."

After many exclamations of gratitude and cries of hope, the three elves hurried off. Ashara watched as they rushed over the bridge. Maybe they would actually manage to find the Dalish, but it seemed more likely that they would forget her name and go to another _shemlen_ village where they would continue to be mistreated. Well, she had done all she could do.

Tamlen exhaled heavily, and glanced at Ashara. "I… I need to get away from all these _shemlen_. I'm going to go wait outside the village; let me know when we're ready to move on."

She nodded and he walked away silently. Kali tilted her head. "Is he okay?"

Ashara looked at the girl. "He's just… thinking of his sister, Tianna. They used to be close."

"What happened to her?"

Ashara bit the inside of her cheek. "She was-", she started, but then hesitated. "She died five years ago." She forced a smile. She didn't want to think about Tianna anymore; she was in the Beyond, with no pain. "Come on; let's go see if Alistair is done gathering what we need."

But Kali hesitated, and bit her bottom lip. "Was she killed by humans?" Her voice was so quiet that Ashara barely heard it, but she saw that the little rogue peeked back up at her, almost as if desperate to hear the answer.

Ashara studied her bowed head. Her thoughts whipped through her mind, and after a time realization set in. There was only one way Kali could have known about Tianna's death; it would account for almost everything. She lifted Kali's chin and inspected her face. "Did _shemlen_ take someone you loved?"

Kali slowly raised her eyes, and Ashara saw that they were hard as emeralds. There was something about the look that brought back memories of the failed wedding, when Kali had stumbled back to her home covered in blood. But then she blinked and the look was gone, only to be replaced by her usual nervous self. "My mother." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Ashara frowned. "Your mother? Where was your father?"

"There was nothing he could do. He told me to watch how I behave around humans, because they can end our lives at any moment."

Well, that explained so much. No wonder Kali acted the way she did, if that was how she was raised. For the first time, Ashara felt a glimmer of pity for the girl. But all she could do was place a gentle hand on the her shoulder, and guide her away.

The two women began walking back to the merchant, followed faithfully by Drake, when a bright-eyed human woman stopped them. "Excuse me, but I heard you talking to that elven family a few moments ago about the darkspawn. Do you know when they will arrive?"

Ashara lifted her chin; she didn't really want to deal with any more _shemlen_ right now. But, short of freezing the woman and running off, there wasn't much she could do. And using magic might draw attention to them. All she could do was answer. "If I had to guess, I'd say in a matter of days. Or they could be here tomorrow. It depends on how fast they're moving."

The woman bit her thumbnail. "You saw them?"

Ashara gestured to herself and Kali. "We barely managed to escape the horde."

The stranger frowned. "Were you at Ostagar, then?"

Kali's eyes widened nervously and she glanced at Ashara, who shook her head and smiled pleasantly. If Loghain had put a price on their heads as Grey Wardens, all manners of fools might try to attack them. She certainly didn't need to encourage them. So she simply twirled a lock of black hair around her finger. "No, we were simply traveling through, and got ourselves lost." She made a face, one that she hoped was convincing. "We found ourselves in the Wilds, where we encountered swarms of darkspawn."

"It was horrible!" Kali squeaked, and Drake started whining. Her previous sadness seemed to be put behind her. At least, for the moment.

The strange woman flashed her a grin that said clearly she didn't believe a word they said. But then her smile faded and she shook her head sadly. "My brother was at Ostagar; he almost didn't make it out alive, and now my family is trying to figure out what to do." She sighed. "If the darkspawn could be here in a matter of days, then we should leave Lothering."

She turned to leave, but then hesitated and looked between Ashara and Kali. "Thank you both. If I hadn't heard you two talking to the elves, my family and I might have wasted time worrying, rather than taking action." She smiled. "If our paths cross again, I'd like to be able to thank you properly. My name is Katerina Hawke." With a small wave of her hand she was gone, rushing towards the other side of the village.

As the girls continued to walk back to the merchant, Kali twisted her hands together. "Ashara, do you really think the darkspawn will destroy this village?"

Ashara didn't look at her; there was something about Kali that made her seem like a child. If they didn't have such a hard road ahead of them it would almost be endearing, especially now that she knew a little about why she acted in such away. "I think it's almost a certainty. With the army destroyed there isn't anyone to stop the horde from moving north."

Kali lowered her head sadly as the two of them came to Alistair and Morrigan, who were bickering about the amount of lyrium potions they would need. Morrigan crossed her arms when she saw Ashara. "Please explain to this dimwit that we need lyrium potions before health potions." She glared at Alistair. "Or would you rather the apostates be unable to cast spells?"

Alistair returned Morrigan's glare. "I hardly think trying to save our money qualifies me as a dimwit."

Ashara rubbed her temples; she was starting to get a headache. "I'm a healer, Alistair. If we have lyrium potions I can heal everyone."

"Of course the apostates agree with each other," Alistair mumbled irritably.

Kali smiled sweetly at him. "She's right though, Alistair. If Ashara can heal us then we wouldn't need health potions."

Alistair looked at Kali for a moment, and Ashara could have sworn she saw his cheeks redden with the girl's green eyes staring at him. _Oh? Well, isn't this interesting. _Either way, he relented all the same. Morrigan threw him a triumphant look, but he ignored it and bought the lyrium potions. He gave them to Kali. "So, did you hear any news?"

Ashara watched Kali put the potions in her pack before turning her attention back to Alistair. "Apparently the Grey Wardens betrayed the king at Ostagar, and got everyone killed through our own idiocy." She almost laughed at Alistair's shocked expression. "Oh, and Loghain, who was so smart as to realize the danger and pull his men back in time, has done the country a favor and placed a bounty on any surviving Grey Wardens."

Alistair's eyes were almost bulging out of his head. "He's trying to _kill_ us?"

Kali looked around nervously. "Maybe you shouldn't shout so loud, Alistair. We don't want people knowing that we're Grey Wardens, right?"

Morrigan laughed. "You expect Alistair to be discreet? You might as well ask your dog to start speaking the _Elvhen_ language."

Before Alistair could make a sharp retort, an airy voice floated to the four of them. "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt. But you are Grey Wardens?"

Ashara turned and saw a human woman with cropped red hair smiling pleasantly at them. She floated towards the group, and Ashara narrowed her eyes. This stranger could be an enemy, but she merely smiled and spread her hands, no hint of wariness on her face. "I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. We aren't Grey Wardens."

The woman smiled. "There is no need to lie." She gestured to Alistair. "I already heard his comment, but you need not fear me. I have no intention of betraying your secret."

Ashara narrowed her eyes at Alistair, who, at least, had the grace to look abashed. Stupid _shem._ Leave it to him to give them all away. Well, there wasn't any point in denying it anymore. She sighed and turned back to the stranger. "Very well; is there something you needed?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters here at the Chantry." Her smile brightened. "If you are Grey Wardens, you will need all the help you can find to end this Blight. I shall come with you, and offer whatever aid you need."

Kali's eyes were as large as dinner plates, and even Ashara was caught off guard. Offering to join them was the last thing she had expected. "Why so eager to come with us?" If what those flat-ears had said was true, the Grey Wardens were considered criminals. It didn't make sense for someone to want to join with them, to put themselves in that kind of danger.

"The Maker told me to."

Alistair started laughing. "More crazy? I thought we were all full up."

Leliana shrunk back a little. "I… I know how that must sound, but it's true. I had a dream, a vision!" She gestured with a sweep of her arm to the people scurrying around them. "Do you see all of this destruction? The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker's work. Allow me to help."

Ashara hesitated. The Chantry that this woman served led an Exalted March against the _Elvhenan_ of the Dales, simply because the People didn't believe in the Maker. They had the Creators, the gods that had protected and loved them for centuries. She didn't want to deal with a sister who represented blind hatred for her people. "We don't need prayers. We are raising an army, and need only skilled fighters."

Hopefully she would take the hint and just give up. A pampered sister, living a secluded life without a thought in her head certainly wouldn't want to sleep on the ground, or fight for her life.

But the sister's voice was firm. "I can fight; I can do more than fight. I was not always a sister, you know. I put aside my previous life when I joined the Chantry, but if it is the Maker's will I shall gladly take up my arms again. Please, let me help you."

Thoroughly annoyed, and unable to think of anything else to say, Ashara was about to just tell the woman "no". She didn't need to explain her reasons; didn't Alistair decide to leave her in charge?

But Kali eased near her and lowered her voice so that Leliana couldn't hear. "We could use her help, couldn't we? We need humans who can help us deal with other humans, right?"

Dammit, the girl was right; even if Ashara was the one who decided what they were to do, most of the _shemlen_ they encountered would probably be difficult to deal with. Short of picking fights with every single human they encountered, Ashara was going to need someone the _shemlen_ might actually listen to. She could practically hear _Fen'Harel_ snickering as she reluctantly nodded. "Fine, I guess we shouldn't turn help away when it's offered."

Morrigan let out an amused laugh. "Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought." Ashara glared at the witch, but Morrigan just continued to smile. _Oh sure, laugh it up. You're stuck with these idiots too._

Leliana smiled brightly. "Thank you. I appreciate being given this chance; I will not let you down. Allow me to gather my things and I shall be right with you."

The moment she fluttered off, Alistair raised his eyebrows at Ashara. "So, we're just going to bring along everyone who asks for a place?"

She narrowed her eyes. She didn't really want to bring the woman with them, but she'd be damned if she'd agree with this idiot. "Our 'plan' is to gather an army of different races that loathe each other to help us stop this Blight, and the only way we can do that is by waving an old piece of paper in front of them and hoping they keep their promise. If that doesn't work we're pretty much out of luck; I'd think we could use any help offered."

Her words caused Alistair to hesitate. "That's true. The Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they could find them."

Morrigan shrugged. "As long as this sister does not spout off about the Maker, I care not."

Kali was the only one smiling. "I think she's very sweet."

They only had to wait a few moments before Leliana came back. She had changed from her robes into what looked like a type of red leather armor, but there were so many straps and buckles that Ashara couldn't figure out how she had managed to get dressed so quickly. She had a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to her back, and Ashara could see daggers clipped to her hips. She smiled brightly at them. "Where is our first destination?"

Ashara shrugged. "We'll make camp tonight and decide where to go from there." She glanced at Alistair. "Do we have everything we need?" At his nod she started walking towards the other side of the village. "Tamlen is waiting for us out here."

Leliana chattered the entire time they walked. She was fascinated to learn that Alistair had been raised in the Chantry, and plied him with all sorts of questions about his time there. Ashara was not pleased to learn that he had been trained as a templar, but it made sense. _No wonder he's so terrified of apostates._ Templars branded Dalish mages as maleficar and claimed that they practiced blood magic, but that was just an excuse to hunt them. Her people knew better than to consort with demons.

As they came to the other side of the village, Ashara saw Tamlen standing next to a large iron cage, talking to a very strange man inside. Curious, she walked over to them, and was confused as to what the man inside the cage was. He was obviously no human. Not only did he tower over the other _shemlen_, but his skin was a dark bronze, his hair a vibrant white.

As she approached, the giant turned his bright violet eyes from Tamlen and glared at her. "Why can no one leave me in peace? I have nothing more to say to you than I do this elf." His bitter voice was deep and powerful. He looked like a man who belonged with a sword in his hand; Chief Tasar, the Clan's Hunting Chief, had the same stance and air about him.

Tamlen looked at her, bristling with anger and resentment. "Look at this! That these _shemlen_ would trap such a warrior is an outrage!"

Ashara felt a strange sense of sadness. To see such a creature left alone in a cage was wrong. "Who put you here?"

The strange man seemed irritated with her question. "I am in a cage, am I not? I have been placed here by the Chantry."

Leliana fluttered over to Ashara and shook her head sadly. "The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family, including the children."

The man nodded. "It is as she says. I am Sten of the Beresaad, the vanguard of the Qunari." He lifted his head. "Though it matters little; I will die soon enough."

Ashara lowered her eyes at the simple sadness of his statement. It was cruel to just leave him there, murderer or no. She knew next to nothing of the Qunari, but she couldn't bear to see such a proud man caged. It didn't matter to her that he was a murderer; technically so was she, and Tamlen, and most of the hunters in her Clan. She understood that death was often shadowed with shades of grey.

She lifted her head. "We find ourselves in need of skilled help." If Tamlen was right, and Sten was indeed a warrior, he could be useful in their fight.

Sten watched her closely. "I don't doubt that. What help do you seek?"

She raised her chin. "It is our duty to defend this land against the Blight."

"The Blight?" He seemed even more wary. "Are you a Grey Warden, then?"

"We are."

"Strange. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill." He looked over her, as if deciding her worth. She saw his eyes travel to Tamlen, and finally to Kali, who sat on the ground, giggling and ruffling Drake's fur. "I suppose not every legend is true."

When he said nothing else, Ashara narrowed her eyes. She was offering the man a way out of his cage, and he acted like he didn't even care! "Well?" He looked at her, but remained silent. "Do you want to join us, or not?"

Sten studied her for a moment, and finally nodded slowly. "Very well; I will aid the Grey Wardens against the Blight."

Leliana stepped forward. "To be left here to starve, or to be eaten by darkspawn. No one deserves that, not even a murderer. I will get him out." She reached into a pack nestled against her hip and pulled out what looked like a simple pin. But then she grasped the lock of Sten's cage and fumbled around with it for a moment, and suddenly the cage door swung open. Maybe this sister was more capable than she let on.

She stepped back as Sten cautiously left the cage. "And so it is done." He met Ashara's eyes. "I will follow you into the Blight. In doing so, I will find my atonement."

Ashara nodded, there seemed to be nothing else to say. "Daylight is fading quickly, so we need to get camp set up soon."

And so the group now had even more allies to aid in their task. As they left the small village Ashara felt a small flicker of hope rise in her chest. She almost felt the hand of _Mythal_, guiding and protecting her and Tamlen. While the task ahead of them seemed damn near impossible, perhaps this was the path the Creators wished for her to be on. If they could somehow stop this Blight, then she would do her duty to her people.

She was no longer First; she would not guide her people to safety, or help them remember who they once were. But maybe she could serve a different purpose. If she kept her people safe from the Blight, was that not a different way to protect them, as a First should? She wished for the wise advice of Marethari, but she would ensure that no matter where the Keeper was, she would hear of Ashara's actions and smile proudly.

For the first time since Duncan had taken her and Tamlen from their Clan, she felt almost light hearted, and as Leliana began humming a quiet song, Ashara felt as if the Creators were smiling.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Asha'belannar - lit: Woman of Many Years; title given to Flemeth<br>hahren - elder, used as a sign of respect  
>Andaran atish'an - a formal greeting<br>da'len - child/children  
><em>

_**A/N:** Thank you to everyone reviewing, reading, and requesting alerts! It really means a lot!  
><em>


	13. Under the Moon

_Please forgive any mistakes here, as this chapter isn't beta'd. I was too excited to wait until Sunday, when it would have been. The husband and I are taking a 16 hour trip home and I wanted to get this posted before we left. _

_**Warning:** the first part of this chapter is NSFW. Actually, it's my first real attempt at writing a scene like this, so if you have any suggestions/thoughts, please don't hesitate to let me know._

* * *

><p><strong>Under the Moon<strong>

Ashara closed her eyes in delicious contentment as the cool night breeze delicately caressed her bare flesh. She stretched out on her back lazily, like a smug cat in the sunlight, raising her knees and pressing her feet into the soft, welcoming folds of the earth, wiggling her toes until she could feel the dirt crumble around them as if to offer an embrace. It was good to be out in the forest, away from the stench of _shemlen_, even if it was only for a moment.

Next to her, Tamlen rolled over onto his side and raised himself on his elbow, smiling down at her. Once a proper place for camp was found the two of them were free to drift away from the fires, to find seclusion under the dark shadows cast by the moon. Their freshly washed clothing hung on a thick branch; there was no rush to go back. It was so reminiscent of the many times she and Tamlen had snuck away from the camp, desperate for the privacy of the forest, that for a moment she almost felt like she was home again.

Tamlen's fingers brushed against her stomach, his touch as light as a butterfly's kiss. They were dressed in nothing but their loincloths and in Ashara's case, a breast band, and his fingers played across her skin almost unthinkingly. He chuckled to himself. "Can you imagine what Fenarel would do, if he were here with these _shemlen_?"

Ashara smiled, sharing in his amusement. "I think he wouldn't leave poor Kali alone; she'd probably have to hide in her tent until he fell asleep." Fenarel was the biggest flirt of the Clan; he even tried his charms on Ashara, and only backed down after Tamlen had had a "talk" with him. Imagining Kali's reactions to his flirtations was quite an amusing thought.

The two snickered for a moment, before falling into a thoughtful silence. Ashara listened to the cool wind rustling through the trees, and Tamlen sighed heavily. "We've been through so much in such a short time, haven't we?"

Ashara looked up at him, and put a hand to his cheek. She loved him so much; she couldn't imagine life without him. He had been by her side her entire life, offering support, encouraging her, caring for her. Even when they were children, with no understanding of the deep passions of love, he had always watched out for her, and she had longed to be near him.

She traced her finger over the contours of his handsome, tanned face. "As long as you are still you."

Tamlen's smile reached all the way to those light blue eyes she loved so much. "I'm still the same me." His smooth voice grew sly, and he rubbed his hand along her thigh. "Shall I show you?"

Her only response was to wrap her hands around the golden strands of his hair and pull his face close, pressing her lips against his in a contact that seared through her. He pressed closer, until the upper half of his body was practically on top of her and she kissed him with more pressure, exploring the inside of his mouth with her questing tongue. She ran a finger along the firm line of his jaw as her need rose inside her, unable to be halted.

It was always this way with him. Since that first night, when they had escaped the prying eyes of the camp to nervously explore each other's bodies, her desire always stirred the moment their lips touched. She had lusted after others before, and learned that it quickly faded once that moment of passion was over. But it was different with Tamlen. She had known the intimate secrets of his body for two years–it still amazed her to think of it–and in that time her yearning for him had never faded.

She closed her eyes and drew a shuddering breath, reveling in the sweet sensation of his fingertips drifting lightly across her skin, and arched her back. His hand wandered around her body and unhooked the clasps of her breast band, tossing it aside carelessly. In two swift movements their loincloths were gone, flung to the side without a thought.

Ashara heard his sounds of pleasure as he cupped the soft heaviness of her small breasts with his palms, exploring and kneading the sensitive flesh and she thrust her chest against his hands, eager for more. He pressed further to her, and she shuddered as the hard lines of his chest and hips settled warm and firm against her own soft flesh.

Her breathing became swift and harsh, and she reached down to wind her fingertips around his length. He bent his head and lowered his mouth to tease her nipple with his tongue; Ashara gasped as his lips tightened around her. She sent a soft wave of energy forth as she caressed the hot length of him, and heard his satisfactory moans, muffled by the swell of her breast. She wanted this as bad as he did.

He dragged her hips closer; her hand began moving in rhythm as she held him, sending out light sparks that while pulling him closer to the wet, secret place between her thighs. He cried out suddenly and pushed her down roughly, down and down until she felt the branches beneath her snap. His weight followed swiftly, the hard planes of his body molding effortlessly to the curves of her own.

She made a noise, a desperate little sound, and her thighs drew open. She was ready, eager for him, and when she heard his primal sound of pleasure she knew that he was ready too. He lifted his head slightly and shifted his body, his hands moving to wind themselves in her mass of hair, though whether to draw her closer or hold her in place, she didn't know.

He lowered his mouth to hers, covering her lips with a ruthless kiss that became almost savage. She could feel his heart beating wildly and her hips arched against him, almost desperate for him. He forced her thighs to spread wider, and buried himself inside, driving deeper and deeper. Her gasps grew louder and she wrapped her legs around him, locking him to her. She couldn't seem to bring him close enough, and she thrust her hips in rhythm with his, pulling him to the very core of her, until she had to stifle a scream of pleasure.

Each plunge sent a fresh shock through her, waves of pleasure that curled up her body in a delicious haze of rapture, until she felt his body shudder, and he gave a cry of release. With one final, burning thrust, he spilled endlessly into the depths of her. He collapsed on top of her, still inside her, and her fingers danced lightly across his sweat dampened back.

They lay tangled in each other's arms, and she knew then that somehow, she would find the strength to push forward. With Tamlen by her side, she could find the will to survive.

oOo

The fire sizzled and crackled against the dry wood as flames danced towards the black sky. Kali watched the embers lift to the air almost as if in a trance. It seemed to her that each spark was for someone she loved, drifting away to a place where she couldn't reach, until the wind snuffed them from existence. For the first time since Ostagar, she was alone with her thoughts. But with all that had happened, her thoughts were a constant torture.

There was no escape from the horror she felt; even sleep brought no peace. As soon as Ashara had determined a suitable spot for camp Kali had collapsed on the ground for a nap, careless of the hard ground pressing painfully against her body. She had been so exhausted; physically, emotionally, and mentally drained of everything.

But the moment her eyes closed and sleep took its hold, terrifying images of darkspawn, death, and even dragons invaded her dreams. She heard screams in her mind, watched a sea of blood drench the earth, and smelled the indescribable scent of death. In the midst of it all a giant dragon shouted to the skies, as if to tell her that she would never escape. She awoke with a horrific gasp, barely half an hour after she closed her eyes.

She rested her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, staring into the fire. When would it end? After everything that had happened, now even her dreams were haunting her? She had lost everything she had ever known, watched thousands of men die… she thought the worst was over. But now she worried that it was just starting. Was this all she had to look forward to? A life spent in sorrow, with dreams of death?

But what worried her the most–it was painful to think about–was that she couldn't seem to conjure images of her loved ones. She tried to picture Jandar's dazzling smile or Shianni's bright face, something to cling to during her saddest moments. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to see them in her mind. Their images were fuzzy and blurred, and soon replaced by memories of Daveth falling to the ground, Jory reaching for his sword, or King Cailan on the field. Tears pooled in her eyes. Was this what it meant to be a Grey Warden? If so, she didn't want it.

Something warm and friendly pressed firmly against her back and she lifted her head to see Drake settling himself down for a nap, pushing his body against hers. She met the dog's black eyes, and it was as if she was pulled back from the precipice of sorrow. He was her reminder of hope, the dog who should have died. Because of her, he now had a chance at life. Even with so much death around her, there was one thing she _did_ save.

Her face lightened and she smiled. She rubbed Drake's head, scratching his favorite spot right behind his ears. "Thank you." Did he know how grateful she was? If a dog could smile, Drake would be positively beaming as he panted happily and laid his head down for his nap.

Feeling a bit more light hearted, she looked around the camp for the first time. Morrigan was sitting across the fire with her nose buried in a large book, ignoring everything around her, and Kali could see Sten sitting back in the shadows, leaning against a tree with his legs crossed and a large sword across his lap. It was actually kind of creepy; she couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not. Leliana stood by a second fire, warming their evening stew and talking with two dwarven men, Bodahn Feddic and his son, Sandal, who had joined their group not too long ago.

Ashara, it turned out, had extremely high standards for a camp spot; it took them hours to find one that she approved of. It had to be nestled in a group of trees for covering, she claimed, and the area around had to be dry. There had to be fresh water nearby, but the area needed to be wide enough that they could clear out a space for everyone.

The search had taken hours, and along the way they had encountered a small group of darkspawn attacking the two dwarves. After the evil creatures were dead, Bodahn approached Ashara and offered up his thanks. It turned out he was a merchant who carried almost everything that they could need: cooking supplies, potions, armor, weapons, even bedrolls. He asked if he and his son could join them to avoid the perils of the road, and in exchange he would sell them his wares, at a discount of course. Ashara agreed.

Kali studied Sandal, who stood to the side while his father chatted with Leliana. The dwarven boy seemed a bit simple, but he was so friendly and excited about enchantment that Kali found him adorable.

"You know, the stew isn't going to warm up any faster with you staring at it like that."

Kali started, and turned her head to see Alistair standing next to her, a bright smile on his face. She blinked. "I… I'm sorry?"

"The stew." Alistair pointed to the fire next to Leliana, where their dinner was slowly warming. "I saw you staring at it, but nothing will make it heat any faster, I'm afraid. It doesn't seem to appreciate how hungry we are." He sat down next to her, and on impulse she immediately scooted a few feet away, disrupting Drake, who snorted in annoyance.

Alistair looked confused. "Is something wrong?"

Kali ducked her head and mumbled an apology.

_Father's normally warm eyes were wild, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm. She cr__ied out from the pain. "Father, you're hurting me!"_

_But he didn't hear her. Grief had turned her loving father into a crazed man; there was no trace of his usual, caring self. "Listen to me! Humans can end our lives at any moment, and there is no one… __**no one**__… who can say anything, or bring them to justice! Promise me that you'll stay away from them!"_

_Tears poured down her eyes, her thoughts were muddled and confused. She never even __**talked**__ to humans, so why was he acting like this? Was it because of Mama? "B… but Father…"_

_Father's grip tightened and he shook her violently. "PROMISE ME!"_

_Kali started sobbing in her fear. "I promise!"_

"Kali?"

She shook herself and saw Alistair staring at her quizzically. "Sorry." She managed a small smile. "W... what did you say?"

"I asked if you knew where our sour leader and her angry friend went."

Despite herself, Kali had to suppress a true smile at his words. She covered her mouth with her hand and cleared her throat; she knew exactly where Ashara and Tamlen went. Or rather, she knew what they were doing. They had done the same thing at Ostagar. "Um, I think they're more than just friends, Alistair." He stared at her blankly. Did he really not get it? Maker, and Shianni used to make fun of _her_ innocence. "Well… I mean… haven't you seen the way they look at each other? And… they went off together… so…" She felt heat rise in her ears.

"Oh for–they are having sex," Morrigan interrupted sharply, never taking her eyes off the book in her lap.

Kali's ears were positively red at this point, but since her hair covered all but the very tips, hopefully Alistair wouldn't notice. She chuckled nervously; no one ever discussed such things in the alienage. It was embarrassing to have something like that said so openly. "Um… yes, what she said."

"Oh!" Alistair's face was almost as red as Kali's ears. He rubbed the back of his neck. "So… when do you think they'll be… done?"

"Already you have nothing better to do than gossip about us, s_hem_?" Kali looked up to see Ashara standing behind Alistair with her arms crossed and a dark look on her face. Where in the Maker's name did she come from?

Alistair twisted around and visibly jumped, almost landing in the fire. "Argh!" He put a hand to his heart and gaped at the Dalish woman. With the spark of anger in her dark violet eyes, she really did look rather threatening. "Where did you come from?"

"It's none of your business." She shot him one more glare, and sat down a few feet away from Morrigan. Tamlen came walking out from the cluster of trees, and as soon as he came near she flashed him a sly grin. "Did you find your boot?"

He chuckled and sat down next to her. "It was under a log about four feet away; I have no idea how it got there."

The two of them shared a secret laugh, and Ashara settled her skirt around her legs, as if getting ready for a serious talk. "Well, since we're all here I think now is a good time to decide what our next step shall be, and what we'll do after that."

Alistair frowned. "I thought we were going to use those treaties."

Ashara lifted her chin. "Yes, we're going to use the treaties to try and gather allies. But what then? Do _you_ have any idea how to kill an Archdemon?" Her voice took on a sarcastic lilt. "Forgive me if I don't have your obviously superior knowledge of warfare, but it seems to me that if you plan to raise an army, you should have an idea of what to do with that army."

"Alright, I get it." Alistair held his hands up in the sign of defeat. "But I could do without the biting sarcasm, you know."

"Yes, well I could do without stupid questions. Apparently neither of us will get our wish." She reached for her pack, which was sitting beside Morrigan, and dug out the three treaties. She unrolled each of them. "Now, we have one for the _Durgen'len_, one for the mages at the Circle Tower, and one for the _Elvhenan_." She rested her chin on her hand and frowned at the papers. "But while we try to collect allies, we should try to contact the other Grey Wardens, because short of chopping its head off, I have no idea how to kill an Archdemon."

Kali lifted her head. "Are we going to try and find the Dalish first?" Surely Ashara and Tamlen would want to find their Clan as soon as possible, and Kali was eager to see the Dalish. Among the alienage, it was said that they were ruthless savages who attacked caravans and murdered innocents. But, while Ashara and Tamlen were a bit rough and didn't seem to mind death, they weren't what she would call savages.

Ashara shook her head. "I think it would be better to wait to find them."

"How come?" Kali was confused. If she had a chance to go back to Denerim, she would snatch at it without a moment's hesitation. Why did Ashara want to wait to see her family?

"I only know the Clans that live in the Brecilian Forest, and it'll be almost impossible to find them during the cold months." She lifted her head from the scrolls. "They retreat deeper into the forest for warmth. If we wait until at least _Lunadin_, we'll have a better chance to find them; during the warmer months they venture closer to the outskirts." She smiled darkly. "Trust me, we don't want to be stumbling around the Brecilian Forest without knowing where we're going. We'd never make it out alive."

Leliana fluttered over to the group from her spot by the cooking fire, and sat down next to Alistair. "The stew is almost finished." She smiled brightly at all of them. "Have we decided where we're going to go?"

Ashara twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "We're working on that. Alistair, is there a way to contact the other Grey Wardens?"

He frowned thoughtfully. "I… don't know. Unless we leave Ferelden to seek them out, I suppose we could try to get a message to the Grey Wardens in Orlais, but I don't know if they could help us."

Kali stared at him. "What do you mean? I thought Duncan said it was the Grey Wardens' duty to end the Blight? Won't they do anything to help us?"

"Well, Duncan sent a call to the Grey Wardens in Orlais, but with Loghain in charge the border's probably been shut down. I don't think anyone will be able to get through."

Ashara sighed. "You _shemlen_ certainly know how to choose your leaders."

"Wait, you mean if Loghain decides they can't come, the Grey Wardens will just retreat?" Tamlen narrowed his eyes. "So much for ending the Blight at all costs."

Leliana tilted her head. "If Loghain has turned the Grey Wardens and chevaliers back at the border, the Empress will most likely take offense. She may decide to let Ferelden defend itself, and focus on protecting her own country."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to find a way to get a message to the Wardens, Loghain or no." Ashara said it as if it was the most simple of actions, but Kali didn't see how they could manage such a thing.

Leliana perked up. "I think I can help with that." Everyone turned to look at her, with the exception of Morrigan, who seemed to care nothing for the discussion, and Leliana smiled. "I have a friend who is very good at this kind of thing." She laced her hands together and set them gently in her lap. "I think I could convince him to smuggle a message into Orlais."

"Where do we find him?" Ashara asked.

"He stays at an inn near Lake Calenhad, beside the Circle Tower." Kali looked at Leliana as if seeing her for the first time; how did a Chantry sister come to have friends like that?

"Well, then I suppose the Circle Tower is our first destination." Ashara rolled up the scrolls. "Just as well really; I'm curious to see these mages."

"I assure you; they are nothing but mindless beasts prepared for the slaughter," Morrigan laughed. Kali shook her head. So far she hadn't heard the witch say one nice thing about anybody. She was starting to wonder if life in the Wilds took away her sense of emotions. Or maybe it was Flemeth.

Leliana glanced at the second fire. "I think the stew is ready. Perhaps we should eat, and then retire for the evening."

Kali watched as everyone except Morrigan got to their feet, and headed over to the pot. Sleep. She didn't think she'd be doing much of that tonight. With a sigh, she slowly got up and followed everyone. Maybe Ashara could give her some more of that ginseng.

oOo

The camp slowly succumbed to silence as everyone drifted into slumber, and Ashara was extremely grateful for it. She was supposed to take the first watch with Kali, but instead convinced the girl to go to sleep, promising that she could handle the watch on her own. Kali looked so tired; purple shadows blossomed under her normally bright eyes, and she couldn't seem to hold her head up. So Ashara had talked her into drinking a sleep potion, to keep her dreams at bay, and after much protesting, the little rogue had reluctantly agreed.

Ashara let out a heavy sigh and stared up at the peeks of stars through the trees, thinking of her Clan. Pressure rose in her face, and she felt tears peeking out of the corners of her eyes; she angrily lifted her head back and stared straight up, glaring at the sky until the tears retreated. She wasn't a weak woman who collapsed easily into sobs, like some of the girls in her Clan. They were girls to whom things happened, and they took it hard. They laughed easily, and cried just as freely. She was different.

Since she had grown old enough to understand the dangers of sadness, she had allowed herself to cry only twice. The first time was when she was nine, and had made the mistake of asking Ashalle about her mother. She knew that her father had been killed by _shemlen_, for when he was alive he was the Clan's Keeper. He trained Keeper Marethari, and to this day the Clan still spoke of him in the most revered voices. Ashara even carried the same staff that he had used; it was the only thing of his that she possessed.

But, no one ever spoke of her mother, and Ashara had been desperate to know. What little girl wouldn't? Ashara sighed, and rested her chin in her palm. She should have left it alone. But, just like she had begged for, Ashalle reluctantly gave her the full story. Mother abandoned her, it was as simple as that. Ashalle tried to soften the blow, by saying how lost in grief Mother had been, how her sadness over Father's death was too great to bear, but the reality was that she simply disappeared into the night, deserting her newborn daughter. Ashara's birth hadn't been important enough to keep Mother alive.

She was only nine years old when she learned what had happened, and the knowledge had horrified her. Mother might have been devastated at the loss of her mate, but what about her daughter? She abandoned Ashara to the wind, trusting that the Clan would care for her. Ashalle had adopted her, and had always made Ashara feel like her own child, but a daughter needs her mother. Ashara had grown up with an absence that could never be filled.

That's why she had taken so quickly to Tianna, Tamlen's younger sister, who had also lost her parents. Tamlen was a boy, whatever anger he held over the loss of his parents was taken out during his training with Chief Tasar, or his wrestling bouts with Fenarel. But Tianna understood Ashara's sadness at the loss of a family, and the two girls quickly became friends. She was two years younger than Ashara, and they spent most of their time together, especially while Tamlen was with the hunters.

He had tried to convince Tianna to join the hunters but she refused. She didn't have the temperament to kill animals; while she would eat with the rest of them she always felt bad for the deer, or fish that the Clan ate. Instead, she had begged the Keeper to be trained in herbs. She wasn't a mage like Ashara and Merrill, so she couldn't be made First, but she wanted to help the Keeper with healing.

Marethari had agreed, and so Ashara and Tianna learned herbal lore together. They joked that they would both get the _vallaslin_ to Sylaise when they reached adulthood at fifteen summers. Ashara touched the twining vines and leaves tattooed around her neck and closed her eyes. Tianna had been so excited when Ashara reached adulthood, and couldn't wait for her own time.

But it never happened; she was murdered by _shemlen_ at fourteen summers.

The second time Ashara cried.

Ashara clenched her fists; these thoughts where dangerous, and she had to remind herself to breathe steadily. _Inhale, exhale._ Her bitterness swirled around her mind, enticing her to just succumb to the hatred. But it was dangerous for her, a mage, to give in to such emotions. There were demons in the Beyond just waiting for her to fall. They invaded her thoughts, promising all kinds of desires if she would just let them in.

_Humans are the cause of everything painful,_ they would whisper. _They killed Tianna, an innocent girl, and slaughtered your father like an animal. If he had lived your mother would still be alive. They enslaved your people, stole your history and immortality. Even now, the quickening in their blood kills you as surely as if they held a knife to your throat. Trust us, together we can make them pay. We can claim back all that was lost, and bring glory to the Dalish once more._

They would beat against her mind, murmur seductively, and dangle hope before her eyes. But Ashara knew that they didn't care about the _Elvhenan_. They just wanted a willing host to bring them into the land of the living. Once here, they would take command. No one, no matter how powerful, could ever control a demon, though plenty of mages thought they could.

Her thoughts swirled around her mind, reminding her of all the injustices she had seen, forcing her to remember the cruelty of the world. They pressed closer and closer, clouding her thoughts and assaulting the dark recesses of her mind. That angry, bitter voice, the part of her that hated, slowly reared its ugly head. _Just another thing the humans have caused. If not for them, your anger would not be so strong, and you would have nothing to fear from the demons._

Ashara scrambled to her hands and knees and grabbed her pack. If she listened to that voice, her dreams would be haunted by demons tonight. She couldn't afford to let hatred take control, for it was the first step down a dark path that lead to her death. She ripped her pack open and dug around until she found her precious pouch of bay leaves. Sweet bay didn't grow in Ferelden, but it was highly valued among the Clans for its ability to chase negativity and hatred away. Every Keeper fought against the temptations that demons offered, perhaps more so than any other mage. The Dalish had so many reasons to be angry, and demons preyed upon that hatred.

Every mage kept their bay leaves close at hand, a surety in case the red haze of anger pressed too close, too strong to keep in check. She yanked the pouch out and dropped two leaves into the fire. As the pungent scent drifted around her, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Tonight, at least, she could relax. The shadows of her mind were gone.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Lunadin - 5th month, equal to Bloomingtide (the Dalish have different names for their months)<br>Durgen'len - literally: children of the stone; name used for the dwarves  
>vallaslin - blood writing; tattoo the Dalish get as their mark into adulthood; each symbolizes a different Creator and marks them as Dalish<em>

_A/N: This was a bit different from how I normally write, but I wanted both Ashara and Kali to get their thoughts in. They both have a lot that they're fighting, but they have things that help them to keep pushing. They're strong women, though in very different ways. I hope I managed to portray that._

_A huge thanks to kirbster 676, Sharem, Shakespira, and Kira Tamarion for the reviews. Shakespira as always is a constant inspiration, and Kira is such a giant help, offering advice, patiently looking through my work, and sending me encouragement. I owe both those ladies a lot. And a big thank you to everyone reading or requesting alerts. It makes me so happy!  
><em>

_One more chapter before we get to Lake Calenhad. I'm changing the timeline of canon events a little...so the journey to the Circle Tower is going to be halted by a very sarcastic, rather charming elf._


	14. Hunted

_As always, I am completely indebted to Kira Tamarion for her patient beta skills, her grammar fixes, and her general awesomeness_

* * *

><p><strong>Hunted<strong>

_I swear on the Creators, this is the __**last**__ time we trust that Leliana knows where to go_. Ashara crossed her arms impatiently and glared at Alistair and Leliana, who stood with their heads together, trying to figure out that damn map that Leliana had sworn would get them to the Circle Tower. But either the map was wrong, or Leliana had been overly confident in her abilities to read it; they had been lost for almost a week now.

"I think we should go that way." Alistair pointed to the north.

Leliana tilted her head. "Should we not travel west? Then, at least, we'll run into Lake Calenhad; if we follow that north, we should be able to find the Circle Tower."

"Let us hope the Archdemon is the patient sort," Morrigan scoffed. "Else it will destroy Ferelden before we even gain our first ally." Ashara couldn't help but agree with the witch. At this rate the entire country would be destroyed before they managed to find their way to the Tower. _Wouldn't that be something? Grey Wardens, heroes of Ferelden, completely lost while a Blight claws at the land._ If she wasn't so annoyed, she might have laughed at the irony.

Sten swept his giant sword over his shoulder and turned to confront Ashara. _"Parshaara!"_ Ashara didn't need to understand the Qunari language to recognize a curse. "Why are we wasting our time when we should be fighting the Blight?"

Ashara sighed and put a hand to her throbbing temple. _Is that really a question? He knows damn well why we need to gather allies._ "Well Sten, I thought this would be a fun adventure." _Mythal_, she should have just left these annoyances in Lothering. "Forgive me wishing to gather an army to fight a horde of thousands. Whatever could I be thinking?"

Sarcasm was lost on the Qunari; he stomped up to her, his violet eyes angry. "I agreed to aid you against the Blight, not waste time running in circles."

Ashara lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. _One more comment, and I swear on Elgar'nan that I will kill him._ "Part of fighting this Blight means gathering an army large enough to withstand it. Or did you think the seven of us would just take on the whole horde by ourselves?"

She was almost positive she saw a vein throb in Sten's neck, but he tried to relax his stance. "Then lead."

Ashara turned from Sten and rolled her eyes. Tamlen caught her look and nodded. She knew they were thinking the same thing: she certainly didn't need _permission_to lead anyone. But Sten was quiet, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to antagonize him any further. It was enough that she had to deal with the two stupid humans who got them lost.

Kali and Drake pranced up to her, and Kali lowered her voice. "Could you do that tree thing that you did in the Wilds?" She glanced nervously at the _shemlen;_ Ashara had told her that Keeper magic must be kept from humans at all costs. But Morrigan was muttering under her breath, and Alistair and Leliana were still distracted by the map. They weren't paying attention to the two women.

Ashara shook her head. "It won't work here." Kali looked confused, so she tried to explain further. "A tree can sometimes allow me to see its history, but it can't tell me what it doesn't know." She pointed to a large tree. "Do you see this oak here? If I asked, it could only give me memories of this forest that we're in, which is, apparently, nowhere near the Circle Tower." She sighed.

Kali's eyes widened. "Magic like that must be very helpful when you're traveling! Can all Dalish mages do that?"

Ashara smiled sadly. "It's all that's left over from _Arlathan_; our ancestors could do much more than just listen."

"Your ancestors must have been powerful."

Ashara frowned. "They are your ancestors too." Despite having turned their backs on their history, the flat-ears were descendants of the immortal elves, just like the Dalish. The difference was that the _Elvhenan _never allowed themselves to be tainted by _shemlen_.

Before Kali could say anything, a sharp whistle pierced the leaves. Ashara barely had time to recognize the sound before she was knocked onto her back with a stabbing pain. She hissed sharply, and pulled herself up enough to see an arrow sticking out of the left side of her stomach. A group of _shemlen_ appeared out of nowhere, brandishing weapons and rushing towards the group.

"Ashara!" Tamlen's look was one of panic as he grabbed his bow.

"I'm fine!" She scrambled to her feet, wincing at the pain, but didn't try to pull the arrow out. She could feel blood trailing down her stomach, but if she withdrew the arrow the blood loss would be worse. Instead, she cast a silver spell shield around herself to block any other arrows; while around her everyone went into action. She could see Kali blocking the attacks of one of the _shemlen; _Sten and Alistair stood back to back as they fought the attackers. Tamlen climbed up to a fallen log for a better vantage point, and Leliana stood below him; both had their bows out, rapidly firing arrows. Morrigan stood within her own spell shield, casting spells at an incredibly fast rate.

There had to be at least twenty of these attackers, all coming at them from different directions, and one of them was shouting something. Ashara knew she had to do something to reduce the number of attackers, or else her group would be overwhelmed. She dropped her father's staff and lowered herself to the ground, ignoring her sharply protesting stomach muscles, and pressed her palms flat on the ground. She pulled at the warm energy of the soil, and grinned as the area around them began quivering and shaking, knocking everyone off balance. She saw her own companions struggling to keep their footing, but she wasn't too concerned with it. At least, for the moment, the enemies couldn't attack.

With the ground still shaking, Ashara snatched her staff and attacked the bandits, one at a time. One of the men was knocked senseless by a Stone-fist, giving her a fierce joy as he went flying. One at a time, she attacked the rest with lightning. By the time the quaking ended, only a few _shemlen_ were left; it was easy for Tamlen and Leliana to pick them off.

Once all the attackers were dead, Ashara lowered her spell shield and slowly sank to her knees, sitting back on her heels and inspecting the arrow still sticking out of her side. The excitement of the battle was receding, and she could now feel the full force of pain twisting in her torso. She was going to have to yank the arrow out but, _Mythal_ help her, she didn't think she had it in her. Dealing with pain was one thing. Inflicting it upon yourself was quite another.

"Ashara!" Tamlen dropped his bow and came rushing up to her, trailed by Kali, Alistair, and Leliana. Sten was wiping his sword off, and Morrigan had started rifling through the dead bodies, searching for useful items, or coin. Everyone else hovered around Ashara, as if afraid she might die.

She frowned at Alistair and Leliana, and waved her right hand towards the witch. "Go help Morrigan search the bodies." She didn't like their pitying looks.

Alistair and Leliana reluctantly agreed; Tamlen fell to his knees beside her, but Kali nervously twisted her hands together. "Do you want me to go too?"

"You can stay, if you want." Ashara met Tamlen's eyes, and saw the worry in them. She tried to smile, but had the feeling that it was more like a grimace. "You're going to have to pull out the arrow."

He frowned. "I know." She saw the hesitancy in his eyes, and knew that he didn't want to hurt her. But the sooner the arrow was out, the sooner she could heal herself. He lightly grasped her upper arm, and as gently as he could, grabbed the arrow. Even though he was gentle, she felt a sting shoot through her stomach, and gritted her teeth. Then, with a searing pain worse than anything she could have imagined, the arrow was suddenly yanked out of her flesh.

Kali knelt down beside her while Ashara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out, and held her hands over the wound. She had to focus, to push past the pain; otherwise she wouldn't be able to heal herself. It took what felt like forever, but eventually she was able to slowly heal the wound. Once Tamlen showed her that the arrowhead was intact, she forced her skin to slowly knit back together, secure that no shard remained in her body.

Blood was caked on her stomach, sticking to the inside of her top by the time she was done, but it didn't matter. She'd wash everything later, and maybe Kali could fix the tear. What _did_ annoy her, was that when she tried to stand, she almost fell right back down. Between the blood loss, and the effort to heal herself, her body felt drained. They'd have to set up camp early so she could rest. If they kept going, and she pushed herself too much, she was likely to collapse. That thought didn't sit well with her.

Tamlen and Kali had to support her on each side as she slowly got to her feet, and she hated every moment of it. But once she was standing, Kali handed her her staff, and Ashara was able to use it to support herself. At least she wouldn't have to be held up like a sickly _hahren._

Leliana was bent over one of the bandits; suddenly she stood up with a gasp, "This one is still alive!" Alistair swiftly came over, pulling out his sword, ready to finish him.

Tamlen's look was dark. "Kill him."

"No, not yet," Ashara countered. Thank _Mythal_ her voice was steady, at least. The wound wasn't as painful anymore, what with the healing magic she had used, but her entire body felt weighed down by stone. "I want to know why they attacked us." She could be wrong, but as the bandits attacked, she thought she heard one of them shout something about the Grey Wardens. Someone could have sent them.

Tamlen twisted to look at her. "They're bandits, what other reason do they need to attack?" Behind him, Alistair nodded in agreement. This had to be one of the first times they ever agreed on anything.

"We'll kill him once we're done questioning him." She managed a small smile. "Of course, if he tells us that he found some ancient ruins deep in the forest, _this time_ we won't go running off in search of it."

Despite his anger, Tamlen let out a harsh chuckle, "Alright, question him if you want."

Leliana smiled. "We should bind him first." She rifled through the pack on her hip and brought out a length of rope, which she used to turn the stranger over on his stomach to tie his hands and feet. When she roughly shoved the stranger into a sitting position against a tree, Ashara was surprised to discover that he was, in fact, an elf.

Once Leliana stepped back, Tamlen swiftly kicked the elf in the stomach, and he groggily came to his senses. "Mmm...wha-?" He struggled to open his eyes, blinking rapidly as he saw them standing in front of him. "Oh, I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all as the case may be. But... I see you haven't killed me yet."

Tamlen crossed his arms. "We thought we'd torture you first."

The elf looked at Tamlen and tried to chuckle, but it sounded more like a cough. "Oh, so you kept me around for a bit of fun, eh? But the purpose for torture is to gather information, no?" His voice grew stronger with each word. "So, despite the potential for fun, allow me to save you the trouble." His eyes traveled over them, and flickered between Ashara and Kali. "My name is Zevran. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, sent here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens, which I have failed at, obviously."

Ashara gripped her staff tightly; she was growing tired. But at least she had been right; this elf had been hired to kill them. "I've never heard of the Antivan Crows. What are they?"

Leliana's eyes were wide; she seemed almost excited. "They are an order of assassins based out of Antiva. They are highly skilled, and are only hired at great expense. Someone went to a lot of trouble to hire this man."

The elf, Zevran, smiled. "Quite right. I'm surprised you haven't heard of us. Where I come from, we're rather famous."

"For what?" Ashara asked. "You're obviously not famous for your skill at assassination." Petty of her, but she couldn't help but insult him. She was tired and irritated, longing for a chance to sit down. Besides, she didn't like how this flat-ear, bound and at their mercy, watched them all with such amusement. One word from her, and Tamlen would kill him. Didn't he realize that?

"Oh, is that what you Fereldans do? Mock your prisoners?" He shook his head in overly exaggerated sadness. "Such cruelty."

Kali laced her fingers together and tilted her blonde head. "Who would hire you to kill us? Was it Loghain?"

Alistair inhaled sharply. "Loghain?"

Kali looked at him. "Well, he's the only one who wants us dead, isn't he? Or did we make someone else mad?"

Ashara let out a hard laugh. "I don't think we're making any friends on this journey, but I can't remember angering someone else that badly."

"It is not often that the target knows who wishes them dead," Zevran commented. "But you are quite right; this man called Loghain is the one who hired me."

Alistair threw up his hands. "Sending assassins, how low can a man get?"

Ashara studied the flat-ear. "So this means you're loyal to Loghain?"

Zevran laughed, as if the very idea was amusing. "I have no idea what his issues with you are." He tilted his head and smiled brightly at her. "The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes? But I am not loyal to him. I was paid to perform a service, that is all."

Ashara nodded, gripping her staff so hard that her fingers ached. Even the effort of holding her head up seemed to be almost beyond her. "I see...so what happens now that you've failed that service?"

"Well that is between Loghain and the Crows. And the Crows and myself."

That was all Ashara needed. With this failed attempt, she felt that Loghain would just try something different, again and again, until they were dead. But right now, she just wanted to find a new spot for camp, to sit down and regain her energy. "Very well. We need nothing else from you." She glanced at Tamlen. "Kill him."

Tamlen nodded and reached for an arrow, but suddenly Leliana was standing in front of the flat-ear with her hand up. "You would kill him now?" She stared at Ashara.

Ashara narrowed her eyes. "Is there some reason we should leave him alive? He would have killed us, and if we let him go he'll just try again."

"He is an assassin, and his skills could be quite useful." Leliana crossed her arms. "If you spare his life he would owe you a blood debt. We could use him in our battle."

_Mythal_, she was surrounded by trusting fools. "You can guarantee his honesty, can you?"

Kali lowered her head, and her voice grew quiet. "Um, I've known men in the alienage who have done horrible things, but that didn't mean they were bad people." She glanced up at Ashara. "They just... didn't have a choice. But if they were given a chance at a better life, they could have changed."

Ashara studied the girl thoughtfully. There was something so earnest about her words, almost as if she was desperate to see the good in people, but they would be idiots to just trust this assassin. She glanced back at the flat-ear, hoping for some sign of what she should do.

Zevran smiled at her, seemingly undaunted by the knowledge that Ashara wished to kill him. He indicated his head towards Leliana. "She has the right of it. Spare me, and I will serve in whatever task you wish me to perform. I am skilled at many things, from fighting and stealth, to picking locks."

Ashara frowned. "We are tasked with ending this Blight that threatens Ferelden. It will probably lead to our deaths."

Zevran shrugged as well as he could with his hands bound. "The life of an assassin is not one of leisure, I assure you. Death does not frighten a Crow."

She narrowed her eyes. Very well, she couldn't argue that point with him. "But what is to stop you from finishing the job later?"

The failed assassin sighed wistfully. "To be honest, I was not given much of a choice in joining the Crows. Besides, the law of the Crows states that since I did not kill you, my life is forfeit. Even if I killed you now, they might just kill me on principle for failing the first time." He smiled. "The only way out is to sign up with someone the Crows can't touch. I'd rather take my chances with you."

"And can we expect the same amount of loyalty that you show these Crows?"

Zevran's eyes widened. "I happen to be a very loyal person, up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing. That's not really a fault, is it?" He tilted his head. "Unless of course, you're the type of person who would do such a thing. In which case I," he laughed, "I don't come very well recommended, I suppose."

Ashara watched him carefully. There was no flinching, no twitch of the eyes, nothing to indicate he was lying. It could mean he was a skilled liar, or that he was telling the truth. But they did need all the help they could find. "Very well."

She knelt down and grabbed the front of his leather cuirass so that her face was inches from his. "But understand this, if you make one move that I even _consider_ to be threatening, I will kill you slowly and painfully, then bind your soul so that you will _never_ find the Beyond. You will be doomed to wander aimlessly without peace, forever." Her soft voice whispered around him, power laced with each word. It took more of her energy, energy that she didn't really have to spare, but she wanted him to know how serious she was. He'd never know that she was bluffing. Well, about binding his soul at least.

Yet instead of feeling threatened, he merely laughed provocatively. "Do not promise such things, my dear. The offer is too tempting." She thrust him away as he continued to chuckle. "I think I will enjoy working with you. There are worse things in life than following the whim of a deadly sex goddess."

Ashara sighed and rubbed her temples. _I'm going to regret this; I just know it._ Tamlen narrowed his eyes and turned to her, clearly annoyed. "So we're going to take the assassin with us?"

Even Alistair looked angry. "Does this really seem like a good idea?"

Ashara looked at Tamlen. "He could be useful, and we certainly haven't turned any other useful person away. If we got rid of everyone that annoyed us, we'd be left with you, me, and Kali." She ignored Alistair's protest and lowered her voice. "But we will watch him." _We will watch him very closely._

Tamlen glared at her for a moment, and nodded curtly. He might be angry, but he trusted her decisions. He knew she wouldn't make such a choice, lightly.

Kali bent down to untie Zevran, a sweet smile on her face. "Welcome, Zevran. Having someone with your skills will be very helpful."

Zevran raised an eyebrow as his eyes flicked over her. "Oh? You are another companion to be, then? I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers."

Ashara saw the girl's face slowly redden, until even her ears were scarlet. _We will watch him very, __**very**__ closely._

Once free from the ropes, Zevran stood up, dusted himself off and bowed to Ashara. "For sparing my life, I am in your debt until such time as you see fit to release me. Until that moment, I am your man through and through."

Ashara looked down her nose at him. He had better live up to that promise, or not even _Mythal_ would be able to protect him. "Good. Your first job can be to help us find a place to camp, since it's your fault we need to rest early."

Zevran smiled.

oOo

Kali hovered near Ashara, in case she should need anything. It had been a few hours since their attack, but that arrow had pierced Ashara right in the side. _It could have killed her!_At first, Ashara laughed at her worry, claiming that all she needed was to relax and regain her energy, but Kali was still concerned. For a while she wouldn't even let Ashara get up to fetch anything, and ran around the camp trying to get her food and water. Finally, Ashara had had to threaten to cast a sleep spell on her if she didn't calm down.

The two women were sitting next to one of the campfires, enjoying the warmth while Ashara talked about the history of the elves. Kali was fascinated to hear of her ancestors, and Ashara had such a knack for bringing the past to life that Kali was happy to pass the time in such a way while they busied themselves with different tasks.

Ashara was bent over a wooden bowl, using a rounded piece of wood to grind a mixture of herbs that she said would make useful potions, while Kali mended some of Alistair's torn socks. She had no idea how he managed it, but all of his socks were full of huge holes. Thankfully, Bodahn had plenty of supplies for her to use, and even though Alistair said she didn't need to mend them, it gave her something to do. Besides, she loved sewing.

Footsteps approached the two of them, and Kali lifted her head to see Zevran standing in front of them, a wide grin on his face. "Ah, the two lovely Wardens hard at work, even in camp." He shook his head. "Such an inspiration to the rest of us!"

Ashara didn't bother to look up from her herbal mixture. "Is there something you needed, or have you come simply to irritate us?"

Zevran laughed. "Such cruel words, from such a beautiful face. I simply saw two lovely women sitting alone, and wished to offer my company."

There was a harsh whistle, and before Kali had time to react an arrow lodged itself in the ground, right at Zevran's feet. Kali almost dropped her sewing and looked around frantically; were they under attack again? But then she noticed Tamlen, standing near his tent with a dark look on his face as he glared at Zevran. He slipped his bow back over his shoulder and walked over towards Bodahn.

Ashara held the wooden bowl filled with herbs in her hands, and slowly stood up. She lifted her chin and smiled at Zevran in a way that made Kali nervous. "I suggest that you keep your distance." She glided off towards the tent she shared with Tamlen.

Zevran laughed and sat down. "Ah, he is the protective sort, yes?"

Kali nodded. "Yes, Tamlen likes to take care of her." She smiled. "Its rather sweet, actually." During their time trying to find the Circle Tower, she had learned that Tamlen was not really as mean he pretended to be. Ashara had told her that he was just angry at the circumstances around them, but that he was a good man.

Zevran watched as Tamlen spoke with Bodahn. "I see that they are Dalish." He looked at Kali. "What about you? Are you Dalish as well?"

Kali shook her head. "Oh no!" She almost laughed at the thought. "I'm from the alienage in Denerim." Zevran nodded and turned to look into the fire, frowning slightly. She tilted her head. "Is something wrong?"

He shook himself, and gave her a dazzling smile. "Nothing at all, my dear. I was simply reflecting on my luck at being around such a beautiful woman."

He was clearly referring to her, strange a thought as it was, and Kali felt her ears redden. No one had ever called her beautiful in such a way before. Jandar had complimented her plenty of times, but it had been exactly that, a compliment. Zevran said it as if it was a simple fact.

She suddenly felt nervous and gathered up the mending, trying to smile. "I should... get these back to Alistair."

Zevran looked at her, and a slow smile spread across his features. It almost seemed like he had come to some decision. "Then I will speak with you another time, my little Warden."

Kali's ears were positively burning and she mumbled something, she barely heard herself, before darting off. Her thoughts tumbled around in her mind; Zevran had called Ashara beautiful too, and it confused her. Certainly Ashara _was_ a beautiful woman, with her thick, inky hair and startling violet eyes. But it was more than just her looks. Ashara held herself with such confidence that it was impossible not to notice her. Kali could easily understand why men stared at her.

But, Kali didn't really consider herself an attractive girl, worthy of any sort of notice. It wasn't that she thought she was ugly; she just never really cared about how she looked. Not since Mama died.

When she was alive, Adaia was called one of the most beautiful women in Denerim, and that wasn't simply a compliment. She was light and lithe, with wide green eyes that sparkled mischievously. But it was her hair that was her best feature. Mama's hair was bright blonde, with streaks of pale gold, and there had been something about it that shimmered whenever she walked; even human women envied it.

When Kali was little, she did everything she could to make her hair like Mama's. She let it grow long, and stood out in the sunlight for hours to lighten it. Mama would laugh, and call Kali her golden little daughter. Kali loved nothing more than for Mama to pull her into her arms, and call her that.

But then Mama died, and suddenly Kali couldn't stand to look at her hair anymore. So she cut it short, and never let it grow out.

Kali shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. She didn't want to think of Mama anymore. Life had become increasingly difficult since she died, and Kali was weary of it. Strange as it sounded, she was so tired of being sad.

She walked over to Alistair, who was sitting by his tent with a bowl of Leliana's stew in his lap. He looked up as she approached, and gaped at her. He set the bowl aside and took his newly mended socks. "You didn't have to mend these! Thank you!"

She ducked her head and sat down a few feet away from him. "It gave me something to do." Drake padded over from his spot by the fire, and she scratched his ears.

"Still, thank you. You really didn't have to." He watched Kali for a moment, and sighed. "I saw you talking to Zevran. Do you think Ashara was right to trust him?"

Kali giggled. "I don't think Ashara trusts _anyone_. Well, except for Tamlen, maybe." She glanced at Zevran, who was now sitting next to Leliana. By the laughter coming from the two of them, it seemed they were getting along rather well. "But, she thinks he could be useful, if he keeps his word." She didn't add that Ashara had also said that she would rather have dangerous elves than stupid _shemlen_.

Alistair watched her. "What do you think about him?"

Kali felt heat creep up her face. "He's very nice."

Alistair nodded and grew quiet. He lowered his head and closed his eyes while Kali watched him. Something was wrong with him; he looked like he was fighting back the urge to cry. But then, with a sudden insight, she realized what it might be. _Duncan._ Alistair had said that Duncan had been like a father to him; he was probably still mourning his loss. Kali felt that she should help him. "Do you want to talk about Duncan?" She was hesitant; she never knew what to say when someone was sad, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try.

Alistair slowly opened his eyes and clenched his fists. "You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as well as I did."

"But he was someone important to you." Kali looked at Drake, who was trying to get her to keep petting him. "I didn't have to know him to know that he was a good man." She would never understand why Duncan had killed Jory, but he had saved her life. Those guards at the alienage would have tortured and killed her if Duncan hadn't conscripted her.

"I just... I should have handled everything better." Alistair's shoulders were slumped. "Duncan warned me right from the start that any of us could die at any moment. But... I can't believe he's gone. Then, when the darkspawn attacked the Tower I was no help to anyone. I... I'm sorry."

Kali shook her head. "There's no need to apologize, Alistair." She was well aware of how the death of a loved one could affect someone.

"Have you had someone close to you die?" Alistair's cheeks were flushed. "I... I don't mean to pry or anything... I just wondered..."

She inhaled. "My mother."

"May I ask what happened to her?"

Kali wouldn't look at him. "She was killed by human guards."

Alistair paled. "I'm... I'm so sorry."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you." She exhaled heavily and slowly got to her feet. She didn't want to talk about Mama anymore, or death for that matter. She was tired of dwelling on the past. "I'm going to see if Ashara needs any help."

Alistair looked up at her. "Thank you. It was good to talk, even for only a moment."

She ducked her head and walked over to Ashara, who was sitting by her tent, still mixing the herbs. She was more than happy to let Kali help her bottle up the potions, and even explained what each of them did. Kali felt strangely relieved to be around her. Ashara was always busy, always ready with something to say, or something to snicker about. Just by her presence, she somehow banished the ghosts of the past, and Kali was grateful for it.

She was already starting to see that Ashara had plenty of reasons to be angry. There were times when Kali caught her staring into the fire when she thought no one was watching, and there was such a sad look in her eyes. But she never talked about it, and didn't like questions about her past. All she said was that there was no point in dwelling on the past, that all one could do was move forward. Maybe Kali could learn to do the same thing.

The two girls chatted about inconsequential things, and after a while Tamlen, and eventually Zevran joined them. Tamlen was irritated by the assassin's presence, but when it became clear that Zevran kept his distance from Ashara, the Dalish man relaxed a bit. Zevran even apologized for Ashara's wound, but she smiled and told him she was grateful that his aim was poor.

It was nice to be around a group of what was starting to feel like friends. Ashara and Tamlen might not trust Zevran, but even Kali could see that he was eager to leave the Crows. He talked about Antiva, and how long he had been away from home. Kali decided that he had been honest when he promised to help them. She didn't know why, he _did_ try to kill them after all, but for some reason she believed him.

After a time, when it was starting to grow dark and Tamlen was talking about different types of arrows, she picked her head up and glanced around the camp. That was when she noticed Alistair sitting next to his tent, watching her with a look that she didn't quite know how to read.

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><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Parshaara - Enough<br>Mythal - Goddess of Protection, also the Mother of the Creators  
>Elgar'nan - God of vengeance, also the Father of the Creators<br>shemlen - humans  
>Arlathan - main city of the elves before the humans arrived<br>hahren - elder_

_**A/N:** The talk with Alistair about Duncan was cut a bit short, simply b/c Kali is the type of person who wants to change herself. She doesn't like how sad she always is, and wants to grow, and to do that she needs to stop thinking about how her mother died. But that doesn't stop her from being concerned about others, even at the expense of her own sadness. She might stop the conversation, but she still wants to make sure he's okay. And I figure Alistair would kind of understand that.  
><em>

_Many, many thanks to Legionary Prime, Prince of Madness 54, Shakespira, Sharem, and Merilsell for the reviews :D And to all of you requesting alerts, marking as favorite, or reading._


	15. Presence Sponsored Fear

_Many many thanks to my amazing beta, Kira Tamarion_

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><p><strong>Presence Sponsored Fear<strong>

"What is the name these mages have for Mother and I? Apostates?" Morrigan glared contemptuously at the giant tower looming ominously in the center of the giant lake. "Such foolish creatures." She sighed dramatically.

Kali followed the witch's gaze and shuddered to herself. The Tower, where nearly all the mages in Ferelden were kept, looked like a prison, suspended in the middle of the lake with no hope of escape. She couldn't imagine what it must feel like to live there. She had been raised with the teachings of the Chantry, and had learned at a young age that it was magic which caused the wickedness of the Tevinter Imperium. Andraste lead the charge against the evil magisters, and to this day the Chantry followed her example and kept the mages away from the rest of the world, as much for their own good as for the good of mankind.

But, standing on the banks of Lake Calenhad, staring at the dark tower set against the rising sun, it seemed to her little more than a prison. Did mages really deserve to be locked away in such a place?

Ashara's violet eyes flickered everywhere; she did everything she could to avoid looking at the Tower. Finally, she settled on Leliana. "Isn't your friend supposed to be here? We might as well see him before we go speak to the mages."

That's right, Kali had almost forgotten about finding Leliana's friend. They were going to see if he could smuggle a letter to the Grey Wardens in Orlais, asking for their help against the Blight.

Leliana glanced over the group. "He usually stays at the Inn, but it would not be wise to bring so many to speak with him. He is likely to grow violent before we have a chance to explain." Kali's eyes widened; what kind of friend was this? And how did he come to know a sister from the Chantry?

Ashara gestured to Kali. "Come with us." She turned to Tamlen. "Stay here and keep watch." Her gaze drifted to Zevran. "We don't need any more assassins coming after us." Zevran smiled widely.

Kali followed the two women into the inn. Once inside, she couldn't help but wince at the damp, moldy odor assaulting her nose, and as she looked around she noticed that the walls were cracked and peeling. Yet, she couldn't help but think that it was still much nicer than anything in the alienage.

Leliana fluttered up to the innkeeper. "Do you have a guest here by the name of Gavan?"

The innkeeper grunted and continued to wipe a dirty cup with a rag that Kali thought might be even filthier than the cup. Leliana reached into her purse, and slid a few silver coins on the table. "Gavan, please?"

The innkeeper snatched the coins up with amazing speed, and jerked his thumb towards the stairs. "Up the stairs, to the right." He turned his back on them and resumed wiping the cup.

Kali followed Ashara and Leliana up the stairs and Leliana lightly knocked on the door to one of the rooms. When there was no response, she opened it and cautiously stepped inside. Gavan was standing by the bed with a knife out, ready to attack, until he saw Leliana.

"Leliana? Andraste's ass, you know better to just walk in like that!" Kali was surprised to see that the man, glaring so angrily at Leliana, was an elf. "I could've killed you!"

Leliana spread her hands. "Gavan, is that any way to greet an old friend?" She was smiling brightly.

Gavan shrugged and slid the knife in his belt. "Can't be too careful. But that's not the point. What're you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he finally saw Ashara and Kali standing near the doorway. "What's this?"

Before Leliana could respond, Ashara swept forward. "Leliana tells me that you can help with an important matter." She reached into the folds of her skirt and drew out the letter requesting help. "We need to get this into Orlais."

Gavan was watching Ashara appreciatively, but his smile dropped when he heard her words. "Orlais?" He looked at Leliana. "You know damn well that Loghain's shut the border down. No one can get in or out."

"Including you?" Leliana asked sweetly, her voice a purr. "The Gavan I know could sneak into the royal castle if he wished."

Gavan laughed reluctantly, and ran a gloved hand through his brown hair. "I might be able to pull it off, but what's in it for me?"

"You mean aside from helping out a friend?" Leliana reached into her purse and pulled out a gold coin, and handed it to him. Kali made a mental note to never again protest when Morrigan rifled through dead bodies. She had managed to scavenge enough coin for all these bribes, and they were only at their first stop. "You get more after the letter is delivered."

"Fair enough." He took the letter from Ashara. "Who do I give this to?"

"The Grey Wardens," Ashara said. "If our guess is right, they were turned away at the border; this letter needs to get to them as soon as possible."

Gavan's head jerked up. "The Grey Wardens?" He studied Leliana with narrowed eyes. "What're you doing with the Grey Wardens?"

Leliana smiled. "That is my business, Gavan. All you need to know is that this message needs to reach the Grey Wardens in Orlais. Can you do that?"

Gavan tucked the letter into his pocket, and grabbed his cloak off the table. "I can." He fastened it around his neck, and crossed his arms. "Where do I meet you for the next payment?"

Leliana glanced at Ashara. "We must go to Orzammar, to speak with the dwarves, yes?" At Ashara's nod she turned back to Gavan. "Then we will meet you at Wenham Village, outside the gates of Orzammar."

With a curt nod and a swirl of his cloak, Gavan was gone from the room without another word. Kali stared at the door. "Leliana, where in the Maker's name did you meet such a man?"

Leliana smiled sweetly. "Oh, you meet all sorts of colorful characters in Orlais." She looked at Ashara, who watched her with a frown. Kali couldn't tell what Ashara was thinking, but she studied the sister as if she'd never seen her before. "If anyone can deliver the letter into Orlais, it is Gavan. For now, let us speak with the mages."

Ashara nodded thoughtfully, never taking her violet eyes off Leliana's face.

oOo

Speaking with the mages, however, turned out to be easier said than done. There was only one way to the tower, but the templar in charge of the boat wouldn't let them pass. "I told you, I have strict instructions not to let _anyone_ into the Tower!"

Alistair looked concerned. "Is something wrong? The Knight-Commander wouldn't deny access to the Tower unless there's a problem with the mages." Kali glanced at him curiously, wondering how he would know such a thing. _Oh! That's right! Alistair said he was trained as a templar, before Duncan conscripted him._

"No, nothing's wrong!" Even Kali could tell that the templar was lying. "But you can't go up there."

Ashara glared up at the man. Even though she was a good foot shorter than him, she was still quite an imposing figure. "We are Grey Wardens, and we require the aid of the mages. We're not about to leave just because you say we should."

The templar scowled. "Oh, you're a Grey Warden, are you? Prove it!"

"If you're not in charge and can't help us, I don't need to prove anything to you." Ashara thumped her staff on the ground angrily.

"So I'm not good enough for you?" The man crossed his arms and sneered down at Ashara. "Well, good luck getting to the Tower then."

Ashara lowered her head and looked up at him; Kali was almost positive she saw the girl's eyes shift color, but in a moment it was gone. "I warn you, my patience is growing thin. You don't want to start picking fights with the Grey Wardens, do you?"

The templar couldn't seem to look away from Ashara. "Uh, look I'm just trying to do my job... I... I'll take you to the Tower, just like you wanted." Ashara lifted her head and the templar shook himself. "But I can't take all of you."

Ashara turned to look at everyone. She tapped a finger against her chin, and finally reached a decision. "Morrigan, why don't you stay here with Sten and Leliana?"

Kali knelt down next to Drake. "Do you mind staying here, too?" Drake flattened his ears and started whining. She scratched his chin and smiled. "Don't worry. I promise, everything will be fine. Just keep watch out here, okay?" Drake wagged his tail and barked happily. He butted Kali's hand with his head before trailing after Leliana, who had been put in charge of restocking their supplies while she waited with Sten and Morrigan.

Ashara turned back to the templar. "Now, take us to the Tower." He sighed dramatically and stepped aside so that Kali, Ashara, Tamlen, Alistair, and Zevran could climb into his boat.

As they rowed across the lake, Kali took the time to peer over the edge of the boat, mesmerized by the beautiful rippling water. She had often walked to the docks with Shianni, and would spend afternoons gazing out at the ocean; Shianni liked to dream of a better life while they stared at the horizon. But the docks were loud, and constantly busy. Sweaty men lifting and moving cargo would often yell at the two of them to get out of the way. But this lake was so quiet and peaceful. The water caught and threw back the light of the sun, shimmering beautifully against the gentle waves.

Zevran was seated next to her, and laughed when he saw her face. "You look so surprised! Have you never seen a lake before?"

Kali shook her head. "I've seen the Amaranthine Ocean, but this lake is a lot different." She wrinkled her nose. "The ocean is filthy, and loud."

Zevran's eyes widened. "Oh, do not be fooled, my little Warden. I've heard that there are all manners of magical beasts that swim below the waters. They guard the Tower."

Kali stared at him. Was he being serious? She eyed the water warily; Alistair leaned forward. "Don't listen to Zevran. There aren't any monsters under the water."

Zevran laughed. "Of course not! I was only speaking in jest. The water is perfectly safe; if it wasn't the mages would not swim in it."

Kali relaxed. "How do you know the mages swim in it?"

"Ah, I don't _know_ it. But I certainly hope they do!"

Kali turned her face away and stifled a giggle.

oOo

When they finally entered the Tower, it was far from anything Kali could have ever imagined. She had almost expected it to be a religious place of quiet learning, but the scene in front of them was one of mass chaos. Templars were scattered everywhere in the entrance hall, some on the ground nursing wounds. There were shrieks of pain that sent chills down her spine, and frightened prayers that scared her. Something was very wrong here.

She stole a glance at Ashara, and noticed the Dalish girl watching everything with an expressionless look on her face, almost as if this chaotic panic was exactly what she had expected. Ashara closed her violet eyes for a brief moment, and walked towards a man standing in the center of the room, speaking to three templars.

"And I want three men stationed at the door. We must keep it closed; nothing can be allowed through. Do you understand?" He spoke like a man accustomed to being obeyed; most of the nobles had the same tone, especially when they barked at the elves.

Kali watched the three men rush to a large door, one that had been barred. There were all manners of boxes, barrels, and even chairs propped against it to keep it blocked. What could be so bad that it would terrify templars in such a way?

Ashara stood in front of the man giving orders. "You're the one in charge here?"

He turned to look at her, frowning deeply. "Who are you? I left explicit instructions not to let anyone in."

"I am Ashara." She gestured to the rest of them, standing behind her. "We are Grey Wardens, come to speak with someone called the First Enchanter."

The man sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. "I am Greagoir, Knight-Commander of the templars. We are dealing with a situation that does not involve the Grey Wardens, so I must ask you to leave." His tone made it clear he expected no argument.

Ashara narrowed her eyes, and Kali bit her lip nervously. She knew where this was quickly going; Ashara did _not_ like humans telling her what to do, and generally responded to orders with anger.

Sure enough, the Dalish girl thumped her staff on the ground and glared at the man coldly. "We will not." She had the treaty for the Circle Tower in her hand and roughly shoved it at Greagoir. "This is signed by the First Enchanter; the mages have an obligation to the Grey Wardens, and we're not leaving until we have a promise of support."

Kali heard Alistair sigh, and saw him shake his head. But what else could Ashara do? This was exactly why they had decided to let her lead everyone; she wasn't at all daunted by demanding humans, and Kali knew she would do everything in her power to gather these allies. Originally, Ashara had planned to let Leliana deal with humans like this, but after listening to the sister talk enthusiastically about the Chantry for over an hour, she suddenly didn't trust Leliana with such a task. Kali wasn't sure of her reasons, but knew that it had something to do with a war between the Chantry and the Dalish.

Greagoir quickly scanned over the contents of the paper and sighed. "I am weary of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless demands for aid, but I suppose it is your right." He handed the scroll back to Ashara, who put it in her pack. "You will find no allies here."

Ashara clicked her tongue impatiently. "You'll need to offer a better reason than that."

Greagoir clenched his fists; he looked rather angry. Clearly, he wasn't used to elves–or anyone really–speaking to him in such a way. But after a moment he managed to control himself. "I will speak plainly: the Tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the Tower's halls."

Ashara frowned. "I thought the templars abused their mages so that this kind of thing _didn't_ happen." She glanced back at Tamlen. "_Hahren_ Paivel wasn't wrong when he spoke of _shemlen_ incompetence, was he?" Tamlen nodded, and Kali covered her face with her hand. This was going to go downhill quickly.

Ashara held a high standard for herself and others, and quickly grew impatient when others failed to meet those standards, especially when she dealt with humans. She believed that a race that enslaved and abused her people should at least be intelligent, or gifted. It was almost like she needed assurance that the elves were defeated by a race more skilled than them. But the more she saw to the contrary, the angrier she became. Kali might understand why she acted like she did, but at moments like this, when she taunted humans and made them angry, it was still inconvenient.

"Do not think I haven't noticed the aura of magic from _you_, kn-" Greagoir stopped himself before he could finish.

But Kali knew what he had almost said, and apparently so did Ashara; she was angrier than Kali had ever seen. Sparks of lightning danced from her fingertips before she balled her hand into a fist. "_Say it_." She spat each word at him as if it was a curse. "Call me a knife-ear, _shemlen_, I _dare_ you." Even Tamlen had a dark look on his face.

Kali looked at Alistair pleadingly. Someone had to stop this; someone had to say something before Ashara got into a fight with this man. He was the only one who could help them get their mage allies.

Alistair stepped forward with his hands up. "Forgive us, Knight-Commander. Grey Wardens have only one title, regardless of race, but such words can still be offensive." He spoke soothingly, and his words had the desired effect. Greagoir turned to look at him, and though Ashara continued to glare at the Knight-Commander with a look that made Kali nervous, she at least remained quiet. "Please, a Blight is upon the land and we need our mage allies to help us fight it. Tell me, how could something like this happen?"

Greagoir seemed content to ignore the Dalish woman glowering angrily at him. "We don't know. We saw only abominations and demons attacking everyone in sight. I realized we could not defeat them, and ordered my men to flee."

"And so your solution was to _lock_ the doors?" Ashara's silence was at an end. "I was led to believe that templars existed solely for this exact purpose: slaying abominations. Surely even you can see that locked doors can be broken."

Greagoir glared at her. "We do not intend for it to stay this way. I have already sent word to Denerim, calling for the Right of Annulment."

"What does that mean?"

Alistair looked at Ashara; thank the Maker he was able to try and keep the peace. "It gives the templars the right to kill all the mages in the Tower, from top to bottom."

Kali covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. "They're just going to _kill_ everyone inside?" she exclaimed before she could stop herself. "What if some of the mages are still alive?" Why would they do something so cruel?

"If any of them _are_ alive, the Maker Himself has shielded them," Greagoir snapped.

Alistair looked at Kali, his face full of understanding. "With the Tower being attacked by abominations and demons, most of the mages are probably dead. The Tower has to be destroyed so that it can be made safe again."

Ashara snorted impatiently. "Well, we _need_ mage allies. If we have to clear this Tower of abominations and demons to get those allies, then so be it."

Up until then, Zevran had remained quiet, seemingly enjoying the sight of Ashara bickering with Greagoir. But now he cleared his throat. "Does this seem truly wise? Surely we can gather allies elsewhere?"

Kali bit her lip and lowered her voice; she didn't want Greagoir to hear her. "But if there _are_ survivors, we need to save them. The templars just locked them in there, and now they want to kill all of them. It isn't right."

Zevran looked at her for a moment and chuckled. "Well, since you put it in such a way, how can I refuse to help?"

"I assure you, an abomination is a dangerous thing," Greagoir said angrily.

Ashara looked down her nose at the human, which Kali found impressive, given how much shorter she was. "And I assure _you_, our solution is better than locking the doors and hoping the abominations don't break through." She smiled sweetly. "I would not speak of such an idea if I was not confident in our abilities. Abominations can't stand against us."

Greagoir rubbed his chin, looking at them all thoughtfully. Finally, he came to a decision. "If you could do this, if you could free the mages from this threat, the First Enchanter will certainly aid in your battle." He held a hand up before Ashara could say anything. "But I warn you: once you cross the threshold I will order my men to bar the door, and it will stay that way unless Irving himself stands before me and tells me that it is safe. I will accept no other assurances. If the First Enchanter has fallen, then the Circle is lost and must be destroyed."

Ashara tossed her hair and walked purposefully towards the barred door. The templars glanced at Greagoir, and at his nod they began moving the boxes, chairs and all other items blocking the door. Kali came up to stand next to Ashara. "I'm glad we're doing this. It's not right to kill innocents, just because they _might_ already be dead."

The Dalish woman frowned. "Yes, _shemlen_ are so quick to slaughter the innocent." Her voice was strangely sad. But then she lifted her head slowly, like a dancer preparing for the stage, and the sadness was gone, replaced with an angry determination.

Finally the door was open, and they walked in. Kali felt a moment of ominous silence as the door was shut behind them, and felt her stomach drop. She wanted to save these mages from death, but she couldn't deny that she was nervous about it. Demons and abominations were terrifying things. How many would they have to fight?

Ashara led them down an eerie corridor that made Kali's skin crawl. It was so quiet, a sharp contrast from the panic of the entrance hall. Kali swallowed her fear, but it was difficult. Every shadow seemed to hide a demon; each turn might reveal a raging abomination. Kali pulled her daggers out and gripped them tightly.

After a short distance, Ashara hesitated. "This is place is _setheneran_, just like the ruins." She glanced at Tamlen. "It feels exactly the same, doesn't it?"

Tamlen held his bow tightly, and slowly reached for an arrow. "Yes, this place feels just as evil."

Alistair stepped forward, gripping his sword and shield; Kali could see that he was nervous. "What does that mean?"

Ashara frowned, so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't realize she was explaining a Dalish word to a human. Or maybe after seeing how the templars reacted to such a situation, she felt more appreciation for the humans in their group. "It's a place where the Veil to the Beyond, what you would call the Fade, is thin."

Her fingers danced lightly on the walls, almost as if she could feel what had happened. "I have no idea what the mages did here but it sundered the Veil, which makes it much easier for demons to slip into our world." She sighed heavily. "When you lock a people away from the world, and deny them even the most simple joys of life, they will sometimes resort to desperate measures to be free."

Alistair scowled. "Didn't you hear the Knight-Commander? They're abominations! These mages are using blood magic; how can you feel bad for them?"

Ashara lifted her chin and smiled with all the patience of an elder explaining something to a petulant child. "There's nothing evil about true blood magic. The only reason it becomes so corrupted is simply because most mages enter into a deal with a demon to learn it. True blood magic is magic, like any other."

Zevran's eyes lit up. "Are _you_ a blood mage, then?" Rather than look nervous of such a thing, he seemed almost excited.

Ashara chuckled. "No, but that's only because I know better than to have a demon teach me such an art." She shrugged her white shoulders. "Should I get the chance to learn the true magic without the aid of a demon, I would not hesitate."

Kali shifted nervously. She didn't know much about magic, but the Chantry was firm in their teachings of blood magic. "I thought blood mages could control the minds of others, and force them to do things against their will. Doesn't that make it evil?"

"_That_ is not true blood magic," Ashara replied easily. "That is what the magisters of the Imperium warped it into. Our lore tells us that blood magic comes from the days of _Arlathan_, and when it was destroyed, the magisters twisted it into something vile. That is what demons teach."

Kali looked at her feet. "How is it that so much was stolen from _Arlathan_?" If she believed half of what Ashara said, almost everything that had a history was stolen from the elves. Either Ashara was exaggerating, or they had taken more than Kali thought. No wonder the Dalish were so bitter.

Tamlen looked at her almost sympathetically. "Our ancestors were wise scholars, known throughout Thedas for their culture, arts, and the skill of their magic. Of course the Imperium stole everything; they wouldn't let such gifts go to waste."

"You know, maybe now's not the best time for this," Alistair interrupted. "Let's clear the Tower of abominations and demons before we start debating how much the humans stole from you."

Ashara's eyes flicked to him, but she managed to hold her tongue. She led them further down the corridor, cautiously peeking around corners and into rooms. After a time the hall spilled into a large open room, where Kali was surprised to see a number of mages, including children, clustered together in a nervous group. As they entered an elderly mage twisted around, her staff held as if ready to fight.

"Stay where you are. If you take one step further I will strike you down!"

Ashara thumped her staff on the ground, and Kali heard a strange rushing sound, like the wind was blowing full force. But that didn't make sense; there was no wind in this room.

"Attack us, and it will be the last thing you ever do, old woman," Ashara warned.

Kali hesitantly walked forward and put a hand on Ashara's arm. Surely this elderly woman shouldn't be threatening them so swiftly, but that didn't mean they needed to fight. These mages didn't look like abominations or demons; they looked terrified.

At Kali's touch, Ashara slowly relaxed her stance, though she continued to glare at the old mage. Kali tried to smile, to look reassuring. "We aren't here to fight. At least, not with you."

The elderly mage lowered her staff. "I will accept that, for now." She studied the group of them and her eyes widened. "Wait, I recognize the four of you. You are Grey Wardens; I saw you at Ostagar." Kali couldn't remember seeing the old woman, and by the look on her companions' faces, neither could they. Of course, that didn't mean that this elderly mage was lying. "I am Wynne, one of the Circle mages. What are you doing here?"

"We came seeking the aid of the mages against the Blight." Kali sheathed her daggers; she didn't think they were going to get into a fight here. She cast her eyes around the room, and saw a glowing blue light sparkling at the other door. It looked like a barrier of some sorts.

Zevran laughed. "But of course, that hasn't gone like we planned."

Wynne rubbed her temple. "You were told there were no allies to be had, I don't doubt." She shook her grey head sadly. "The templars abandoned us to our fates, leaving us to die, but we have still managed to survive. Tell me, why did Greagoir let you pass?"

Ashara lifted her chin. "Those sorry excuses for mage hunters were content to just lock the door, wait, and hope for the best. But we need our mage allies, and since the only way to do that is to clear the Tower of demons and abominations, that's what we're doing."

The elderly mage hesitated. "You are going to cleanse the Tower?" At Ashara's nod she gestured to the glowing blue light against the opposite door. "I have erected a barrier to the rest of the Tower, so that nothing could get by to harm the children. But if you will join with me to stop these demons, I will let it down."

"You would leave the children here?" Ashara asked skeptically. "Are you sure that's wise?"

Wynne scowled. "Petra and Kinnon will watch them."

Kali didn't much see how two mages would stand up against powerful demons, and she couldn't help but think that Wynne didn't quite look up to the task of clearing the Tower. She slid a glance at Zevran, who watched the exchange with amusement. Maker, was there anything he didn't find funny? He was almost as bad as Morrigan.

"Very well," Ashara said slowly, after a short silence. "If you think you can help us, then by all means, come." She held up a finger. "But if you slow us down, I will send you back here to wait."

Instead of looking grateful, as Kali would have expected, Wynne studied Ashara warily. "You are clearly a mage, but you do not belong to the Circle. Are you an apostate?"

She didn't recognize Ashara as Dalish? Almost everyone else did. But Ashara didn't seem offended by the question; she merely smiled widely. "I am. At least, by the standards of your Chantry." She lifted her chin, giving Wynne a view of the swirling cluster of vines and leaves tattooed around her long neck. "I am of the _Elvhenan_." She chuckled. "Your Chantry might say that is worse."

Wynne seemed even more hesitant, but she didn't say anything else. She simply turned to the barrier, and held her staff out. Kali felt the very air around her shift, and soon the barrier was gone.

As the group hesitantly walked further into the Tower, Kali looked at the thick stone walls. They were so cold and unwelcome, screaming at a life spent trapped, without even sunlight to warm the skin and ease the mind. How could people do something like this to someone? It couldn't be just because the Chantry thought magic was evil. She knew full well, from a life spent among the alienage, that it didn't take magic to make someone evil. Was that why Ashara spoke of the Circle Tower with such scathing words? Was it because she was angry at how mages were treated, by their own people?

Zevran was walking beside her, and caught a glimpse of the look on her face. "Is something wrong, my little Warden?"

"I was just thinking. I always thought humans only treated us badly, but there are human mages here, and they're treated just as bad. Why would the humans do that to their own kind?"

For once, the assassin didn't have a grin on his face. He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke his tone was strangely serious. "It is because they fear what they don't understand. Elves, magic, it is all the same to them. So their solution is to just lock away what they fear."

He made sense. Wasn't that what the alienage was, a place to lock away the elves? "It's just...wrong."

"Ah, well short of changing the world, we can only accept it and make the best of it." He smiled. "But you are a Grey Warden, no? Perhaps you can be the one to change it."

Kali smiled at the hopeful words, but as the group continued down the shadowed hallways, her dark thoughts continued to follow her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>hahren - elder, used as a sign of respect<br>shemlen - humans  
>setheneran - a place where the Veil to the Fade has been torn<br>_

_Many thanks to Legionary Prime, Shakespira, and AkaiAoi for the reviews! :D And thanks to everyone requesting alerts, marking as favorite, or reading. You guys are awesome!_


	16. Swim Through the Veil

_As always, I am completely indebted to my wonderful beta, and friend, Kira Tamarion. Her patience with my work [and this long chapter] is so encouraging. If you haven't checked out her work, you really should do so._

* * *

><p><strong>Swim through the Veil<strong>

The dark forest floor, dappled with bright patches of sunlight, was the first thing that Ashara noticed. She stared at the strips of golden light shimmering on the ground, as if she had never seen such a thing before. Somewhere in the distance, a bird sang joyfully, as if to say that all was well. Ashara lifted her head to see the familiar sight of her Clan going about their daily tasks. _Wh...what is this?_ She thought she had been taken away from the Clan, forced to leave with Tamlen. But there they were, bustling around, laughing and gossiping as if nothing was wrong. She inhaled deeply; the familiar scents of tanned leather, burning wood, and fresh pine brought tears to her eyes. It must have been a dream, a horrid nightmare.

Snatches of song drifted to her ears, and Ashara closed her eyes, as her heart seemed to miss a beat. She recognized Maren's voice, the one who cared for the halla, as she went about her tasks of feeding and brushing the beautiful white deer. But then one voice stood out amongst the others, and Ashara felt all the breath knocked out of her body. Her eyes desperately searched the Clan, until she found who she was looking for, the young girl who laughed and sang while she carried a basket of herbs to her aravel. _Tianna!_ Before she even had time to think, Ashara dropped her staff to the ground and with her arms out, ran to the girl.

The girl squealed and dropped her basket, as Ashara grabbed her, and pulled her into a tight embrace. She started protesting, and flailed her arms around. "Ashara! You're choking me!" But Ashara didn't let the girl go; tears poured down her eyes as she gripped tightly to the young girl who had been her _Elgar_ Sister.

Tianna finally succumbed to the embrace, but when someone approached them she sighed, with all the dramatics of a girl who had reached her fourteenth summer. "Thank Mythal you're here, Brother." She tried to put her hands on her hips but couldn't manage it. "Ashara, shouldn't you be hugging _Tamlen_ with this amount of enthusiasm?"

Laughter bubbled from Ashara's throat, and she finally released Tianna, holding her at arm's length while she studied the girl. _I thought...I dreamed she was dead. _But it must have been just that, a dream. A terrible nightmare in which Tianna had been kidnapped and abused by _shemlen_, wounded so badly that no healing magic would cure her.

She finally noticed Tamlen standing beside her, chuckling fondly at her expression. "What's wrong, _vulpasha_? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She shook her head, marveling at everything around her. "Just...a series of bad dreams, _emma'lath_." She continued laughing, suddenly feeling absurd. Of course it was nothing but a nightmare, a vivid, horribly real nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless. The Clan would never allow Tianna to be taken by _shemlen_, and they would _never_ send her and Tamlen away with a human!

Tianna wiggled out of Ashara's grasp and brushed her beautiful brown hair away from her face. "Must have been a really bad dream; but it's probably just because you're stressed." She beamed at Ashara. "You have a big day today!"

Ashara's eyes flicked between Tamlen and Tianna, the two people she loved most in the world. "What do you mean?" She barely heard herself, still amazed at being home safe, with her own people. She seemed to have a difficult time shaking off that horrid nightmare.

"You don't remember?" Tianna tilted her head quizzically. "Are you sure you're alright? The Keeper is stepping aside in a ceremony this evening. After tonight, you'll be our Keeper!" She grinned proudly.

_Wait, I __**do**__ remember something about that. _She vaguely recalled the Keeper wanting to step aside, stating that it was time for Ashara to take her rightful place. It was a big deal among the Clans, for no Keeper had ever willingly given up their position before. But the Keeper had said that Ashara was strong and wise, and cared more about her people than any other member of the _Elvhenan_.

Tamlen smiled down at her; Ashara was almost lost in those beautiful blue eyes of his. "The Keeper wished to speak with you once you woke up."

Tianna giggled happily, and flung her arms around Ashara's waist, the strewn contents of her basket completely forgotten. "The Clan is already preparing for the ceremony! Everyone's so excited, and Ashalle's bragging to anyone who will listen!"

"Well, she'll never be able to meet with the Keeper is you keep clinging to her, Tianna." Ashara looked up to see Tamlen's best friend and fellow hunter, Fenarel, approaching them. He crossed his arms and frowned in playful seriousness. "Ashalle's driving half the Clan crazy with preparations for tonight." He adopted a fake high voice. " 'Paivel, make sure you have enough of those strawberries Ashara loves! Maren, are you sure you've got enough of those spices for the venison?' " He rolled his eyes while Tianna glared at him.

She looked back up at Ashara, still hugging her waist. "Don't listen to him! Ashalle's just excited! And she's not driving the Clan crazy; they know she's just proud of her niece."

Ashara stroked the girl's soft curls, her smile fading as the hum of a warning rang in the back of her mind. Something didn't sound right; Ashalle wasn't her aunt. But everything else was just like she remembered: Tianna's sweet and cheerful words, Tamlen's confident smile, and Fenarel's easy humor.

Before she had time to think about it, Tianna suddenly grabbed her hand. "Come on, the Keeper's waiting!"

Tamlen caught up with the two girls as Tianna pulled Ashara off. "After you speak with the Keeper, you'll have the day to yourself, until the ceremony. Do you want to go exploring in the forest with Fenarel and me?"

Tianna perked up. "Yes! We can go searching for herbs!" She widened her blue eyes, eyes that were much darker than her brother's, and pleaded. "Can we, please?"

Ashara laughed. Tianna shared her own love of healing herbs; the two of them often sat by Ashara's aravel, sorting through various herbs and mixing them into different potions, always trying to discover something new. "Of course we can."

When they came to the Keeper's aravel, Ashara was curious to see that Marethari wasn't there. Usually she could be found sitting outside with a book open in her lap, always available in case anyone of the Clan should need her. Perhaps she was speaking with Master Ilen.

"Ah, there you are, _da'len_." Ashara turned at the unfamiliar voice to see a man she didn't recognize walking towards her, carrying a staff similar to hers, and followed by a beautiful woman.

She looked between these two strangers; there was something so eerily familiar about them. The woman was slim and lithe, with short black hair curled into shiny ringlets. The curls tumbled around her shoulders, framing her delicate face and plump lips. Her brown eyes were warm, and flecked with sparks of gold that seemed to glow under the sunlight.

The man was wearing the ring of the Keeper on his right hand, on the same exact finger that Ashara wore her own. But that wasn't right; he wasn't the Keeper. She studied his cropped, almost perfectly white hair, and as she met his dark violet gaze she realized that she was looking into her own eyes.

She covered her mouth, gaping at the two strangers as if they were some kind of mythical beasts that suddenly cantered into the Clan. _Are these...my parents?_ Yes, now that Ashara studied the woman closely, she saw the same small nose, and shade of inky black hair that was an exact replica of her own.

"_M...Mamae_?" Ashara's voice was barely a whisper; there was no way this was real. Father had died before she was born, murdered by _shemlen_ and flat-ears. Mother had been so consumed by grief at the loss of him that after she birthed Ashara, she simply walked into the night and was never seen again.

The woman let out an airy laugh, a mirror of Ashara's own. "What is wrong, _da'len_? Do you not recognize your own parents?"

Ashara hesitated. "You're supposed to be dead." Something was wrong. The warning hum in her mind began to chime louder.

The man laughed. "Dead? Of course we're not dead!" He smiled down at her. "Who else could give you your firm knowledge of magic but your own father?"

Part of her mind was quieted by his comforting words, but she refused to be drawn in by it. Father had been Keeper before Ashara was born, but when he was murdered Marethari took his place. That was why Ashara had been so determined to become First over Merrill, to honor her father's memory.

She looked around warily. "Where's Marethari?"

The woman who was her mother tilted her head. "Who is Marethari?"

Ashara found herself slowly stepping away from these two who claimed to be her parents. She could feel no air of evil around them, but she knew that something was wrong. Marethari was the one who taught her everything she knew about magic, not this man in front of her.

Tianna looked up at Ashara sympathetically. "You're tired, _lethallan_. Your dream has left you confused about everything. Why don't we go into the forest and gather some herbs? That should make you feel better."

But now that Ashara was warned, she studied Tianna as if she'd never seen her before. Tianna looked to be fourteen summers, something Ashara had not questioned at first. But that couldn't be right. She was only two years younger than Ashara, which meant that she should be close to nineteen summers. She should be an adult now, no longer a _da'len_.

She took another step away from them. The warning in her mind was screaming at her now, but she no longer needed it. "You are _not_ my Clan. Who are you?"

The woman who pretended to be her mother looked at her sadly. "_Da'len_, can you not be grateful with this peace? We offer you everything you could ever wish for: your rightful position among your Clan, the man you love, the sister you had, and the parents you wish you had known."

"But this isn't real." Ashara was quickly growing angry. "_Who_ are you?"

"We are your Clan, _vulpasha_," Tamlen replied easily. But he was lying, and she knew it; her anger only rose that this...this changeling would dare to use the nickname Tamlen had for her.

It was so hard to think clearly, to figure out what was going on. The answer was just out of reach. She knew it had something to do with this strange dream she had, but she could no longer recall any details about it. Her mind was clouded; she couldn't seem to focus.

But she knew what to do, because of _Marethari's_ teachings. All those years spent stepping away from the Clan, drifting into the forest to meditate, to focus her mind, were not wasted. Ashara understood her mind; she knew the proper way to breathe and shift through the haze of confusion to pull her memories to the front. It was all she needed, and soon everything came back to her in a rush of memories.

She was in the Circle Tower, trying to cleanse it of demons and abominations. She had come seeking the aid of the mages against the Blight, for she and Tamlen were Grey Wardens. They had been with Kali, Zevran, Alistair, and an annoying elderly mage named Wynne, fighting against the unnatural creatures unleashed on the Tower, when they had been confronted by a large demon of sloth. Before any of them could react, it had clouded their minds. That was the last thing she remembered, which meant that the demon must have sent them into the Beyond. _Which must be where I am now._

That meant, these elves who claimed to be her Clan were nothing but spirits sent to trap her. Her face contorted into anger as a wave of pure rage swept over her. _How __**dare**__ they!_ Her staff still lay on the ground a little ways away, so she clapped her hands together and sent out a wave of energy that flooded the area around her, knocking down the intruders.

The spirit with Tamlen's face jumped back up. "Foolish mortal! If you will not accept this peace, we will see you dead!" The mirage faded around her, and she was left staring at a bunch of walking corpses.

Ashara let out a scream of hatred, and raised her arms to call down a storm of fire upon all these evil creatures that dared to toy with her mind. The force of her anger quickened her spell, and soon she was surrounded by the stench of burning creatures. They swept towards her, trying to strike her down, but she dropped to the ground and shoved her hands in the dirt, pulling at the roots buried beneath the earth and forcing them upwards, to pierce and stab at these creatures. _Let them see the magic of the ones they pretended to be!_

Soon the creatures were trapped by the roots, stumbling around as they tried to pull free. Unsatisfied with even this amount of damage, Ashara pulled her hands from the earth and murmured softly until she saw a red glyph surround the area. Sparks of deadly light swirled around the creatures, trapping them against the ground as they twitched and writhed, desperately trying to get up. When their flesh began melting from the flames still pouring down upon the area, Ashara felt secure that she had done as much damage as they deserved. She didn't know if those creatures could even feel pain, but it gave her a savage joy.

By the time the last of the creatures were dead, Ashara was sweating and breathing heavily, both from the spells she had cast, and the force of her anger. She was alone now; there was no one to witness her shame as she fell to her knees, beat her hands against the ground, and shrieked a painful howl of despair, of someone who had lost the thread of hope dangled before their eyes. The ground began to shake as she continued to scream, beating against the ground again and again, over and over until the delicate flesh of her hands was torn and bleeding. She had been so happy, so very happy, to see Tianna, to be with Tamlen and her Clan. She had felt so safe, so secure.

But it was fake, made possible only because a demon found the secret place of her heart.

The ground continued to quiver with the force of her hatred, and slowly Ashara became aware of it. She had to stop this screaming; she _had_ to master herself. The demons that lived here, in the Beyond, would soon be drawn to her anger. She couldn't let that happen.

With a visible effort she climbed to her feet and tried to calm herself. She managed to stop screaming, and held in the flow of energy beating around her, created by the force of her hatred. She started shaking from the effort, but after several moments she calmed her rapidly beating heart. Closing her eyes, she took one shuddering breath, and let it out slowly. _Breathe; inhale, exhale._

For the first time she noticed that the trees of the forest were gone, and she was in what looked like a stone temple. Against a wall stood a strange pedestal, and she walked over to it, grabbing her staff along the way, desperate for something to distract her. She inspected the runes on the pedestal, and wondered if they represented different places in the Beyond. _What else could __they be?_

Well, she'd never know until she touched them. Maybe they would lead her to Tamlen and the others. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she placed a finger on one of the runes. As a white mist began to swirl around her, she knew what she had to do. She would find those trapped with her, and together they would escape. _And when I find this demon of sloth that dared to toy with my mind, I will rip its heart out with my bare hands. I will watch it die slowly, and painfully._

It was the only answer.

oOo

Ashara was in a strange, slightly damp, very small house. She looked around; it was made almost entirely of wood, but she could see that the place was near falling apart; water dripped from holes in the roof, and the moldy, wet air almost choked her. The whole place smelled unhealthy.

"Don't worry loves, supper's almost ready!"

Ashara suddenly saw a stunningly beautiful woman laughing over what looked like a cooking pot, though it was different from what she was used to, and a group of elves appeared in front of her, sitting around a small table. She saw Kali, sitting next to a dark-skinned elf who looked vaguely familiar. He smiled at Kali in a way Ashara recognized well. Tamlen often wore the same expression when he looked at her.

"Kali!" Ashara swept over to the girl, but Kali didn't seem to hear her. "Kali, it's me! Ashara!"

With a heavy sigh, Kali slowly looked up at her; her wide green eyes were sad, and her lower lip trembled. The beautiful woman by the stove danced over to the table. "Well, hello!" She beamed down at Kali. "Kali, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?"

Kali lowered her eyes. "This is Ashara, Mama."

_Did she just say...?_ Ashara twisted to look at the beautiful woman, and noticed for the first time that there was an unmistakable resemblance between the two. They had the same exact shade of bright green eyes, and Ashara saw that the woman had the same bright blonde hair, a bit more pale than Kali's. They even had the same light dusting of freckles across their noses. "This...this is your mother?" The mother that was murdered by _shemlen_.

Kali nodded slowly, and the woman laughed musically; their looks were apparently the only similarities between them. Kali was quiet and thoughtful, but this woman practically sparkled with energy; her flushed face was lit up with a radiant happiness. "That's right!" She held her arms out grandly. "A friend of Kali's is a friend of ours! Let me introduce you to everyone."

She gestured to a gray haired man seated at the end of the table. "This is my husband, Cyrion." He nodded politely, as Kali's mother walked to two red headed elves, and placed her slim hands on their shoulders. "Shianni and Soris, my niece and nephew." The two elves smiled brightly, as Kali's mother indicated the dark-skinned man. "And this is Jandar, Kali's husband."

Ashara finally remembered where she had seen the man; he was at that horrid alienage, to which Duncan had dragged her and Tamlen. He was one of only two men who had offered to rescue the women that had been taken by the _shemlen_ lord. Jandar smiled brightly at her, and put an arm around Kali, pulling her close.

But Kali didn't smile, or even flush; she just lowered her eyes. Ashara knew she had to end this, but it seemed almost cruel to take this dream away from the girl. Kali didn't dream of wealth, or status for her people, or even a better home. All she wished was to be with her family, and the man she apparently loved.

But, as horrible as she might feel, Ashara couldn't let this dream continued. It wasn't real; it was just a trick of the demon. She looked down at the blonde girl, and tried to keep her voice gentle. "Kali, this isn't real. A demon has us trapped here in the Beyond."

Tears welled up in Kali's green eyes, and she inhaled deeply. "I know."

"You...wait, you know?" Ashara was caught off guard.

Kali nodded. She reached a hand up and twisted the light strands of her cropped hair around her fingers, almost as if she would rip it out. "I...cut my hair when Mama died." She closed her eyes, and her voice grew quiet as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I know it's not real, but I...wanted so badly to just stay here."

Her mother laughed joyously. "Of course you can stay here, my little golden daughter. We will be happy for eternity!"

Kali shook her head, and slowly stood up. Tears continued to fall down her face, but she pulled her daggers out of their sheaths and gripped them tightly. "No, I can't." She drew in a shaky breath and looked at Ashara. "We have to go, don't we?"

Ashara nodded, as a strange feeling of tenderness washed over her. She was all too understanding of the desire to stay in the dreams. The demon had preyed upon their hearts' desires, taunting them with everything they longed for. She tried to smile encouragingly at Kali. "Yes, we do."

The creatures were having none of that. They dropped the images of Kali's loved ones and angrily attacked them. Ashara had thought to kill them herself; she didn't want to force Kali to kill the monsters who had looked like her family. But the little blonde girl hacked and slashed through their skin, her eyes as hard as emeralds.

Soon the creatures were dead, and Kali stood over their bodies, her head bowed and her hands covered in blood. Ashara walked up beside her, and place a hand on the girl's tense shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Kali whispered. "I...I know it was stupid to stay, but...I just wanted..."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Ashara interrupted firmly. "The demon is tempting us with what we want the most, because it doesn't want us to escape."

Kali hesitated. "Were...were you tempted to stay, too?"

Ashara closed her eyes against the mental image of Tianna's bright face, bubbling with laughter. "Yes. I was."

The run down room disappeared; replaced by a stone building similar to the one Ashara had just seen, with the same glowing pedestal. She put an arm around Kali's thin shoulders. "Come on, let's find the others and get out of here."

"How do you do that?" Kali suddenly asked.

"Do what?"

"How do you just...move past what happened?"

Ashara bit the inside her cheek, contemplating the answer, her arm still around the girl. "I've...just realized over time that the past is the past. There's nothing to do but learn from it, and move on. The pain might linger, and the memories can still ache, but there is nothing that can be done to change it." _Much as we might wish otherwise._ "Take your mother, for example." Kali winced, but Ashara continued anyway. "You will never stop missing her; you will never stop longing to hear her laugh, or listen to her advice. And that's fine. It's okay to miss her, but you must still move on with your life, and honor her memory by being the woman she knew you to be."

Kali hesitated. "I...you're right." Realization dawned on her sad face. "Mama didn't like it when I was sad. If she saw me like this, she'd tap me on the head and drag me outside, into the sun until I smiled. She always said 'no one could frown if they were standing in the sunlight.' "

Ashara smiled. "Your mother sounds like a wise woman." She guided Kali over to the pedestal. "Come on. Let's find the others and be done with this place. We still need to save those mages, don't we?" Kali nodded, and Ashara noticed that her face was lighter than before. "We'll be free soon, _lethallan_. I promise."

The two women touched the pedestal together, and the white mist swirled around them. But Ashara couldn't stop thinking about what she had done. She had called Kali "_lethallan_". Among the Dalish it was a term used for a Clansman, a word to use towards a friend. Kali was not of the _Elvhenan_, but Ashara had said the word so easily, without even thinking about it, as if Kali was a true friend.

As the ruin slowly disappeared around them, she realized, for the first time, that that's exactly what Kali was.

oOo

The two women were in a thick forest; so similar to Ashara's dream that for a moment she was afraid she was trapped again. But then she heard the splashing of water somewhere nearby, and realized that this dream was a bit different from her own. Kali looked around nervously, and Ashara guided her to the water, thinking that she might know whose dream this was.

She was proven right as they reached a small clearing, set beside a slow moving river.

Tamlen sat near a large tree, smiling lovingly at a woman sitting next to him, his bow and arrows casually set in the grass. Ashara noticed the slim band across his forehead, with the long white feather dangling from it to brush the side of his tanned face. She could see that the feather was notched, which symbolized the status of Chief Hunter.

Her eyes were drawn to the woman sitting next to him, and for one heart-wrenching moment Ashara worried that he was dreaming of another woman. Completely forgetting Kali's presence beside her, she marched up to Tamlen, ready to beat him, and the woman, with her staff.

But it wasn't another woman seated so happily beside him. It was Ashara. The creature looked exactly like her, and Ashara gaped to see that the changeling was pregnant, her rounded stomach arching delicately from beneath the fabric of her top. Tamlen smiled at the creature, and caressed her stomach so tenderly that Ashara put a hand to her own stomach.

She was distracted by more splashing, and turned her head to see a little girl playing around in the water. She couldn't be more than six, and kicked and splashed around in the shallow part of the river, giggling happily. Ashara caught a glimpse of the child's beautiful brown hair, and with a pang realized who it was. It was Tianna. Tamlen believed that if he had been older, stronger, he could have protected her from her horrible fate. So in his dream she was a child, and he was strong enough to keep her safe.

Kali shifted beside her, and Ashara glanced at the blonde girl, who watched the scene with such sadness. When she saw Ashara looking at her, she nodded; the meaning on her face was clear. This was something Ashara should deal with herself. Kali would not intrude.

She walked over to Tamlen, as she approached he noticed her presence. He looked up at her, his blue eyes wide at first, and then he frowned suspiciously. "What...what kind of trick is this?" He turned his head back to the creature sitting beside him.

"Tamlen, this is a dream," Ashara said firmly. "We need to go."

He looked up at her, confused. "A...a dream?"

"Yes, a dream _emma'lath_." She reached a hand to him, and when he took it she pulled him to his feet, away from the creature beside him. "A demon has us trapped in the Beyond."

He looked at the little girl playing around in the water. "But...it's so real."

Ashara twisted her fingers through his. "Feel my touch, Tamlen. _That's_ real. You and I are Grey Wardens, don't you remember? Together, we're going to show the world what two of the Dalish can do." She stared into his beautiful eyes, imploring him to remember their talks. They had accepted their fates as Grey Wardens, and realized that they had been given the chance to do more for their people than they ever thought possible. "We aren't going to stop at the Blight, remember? We're going to use our new status to find land for our people, and bring respect to the _Elvhenan_."

Tamlen closed his eyes, and sighed heavily. "It...feels like a dream."

The pregnant creature struggled to stand up. "Do not listen to her, love. She is a spirit, sent to trap you." She placed a hand on her swollen stomach. "Stay here, with me and your sister. Do you not wish to see our child grow? It will be a girl, a daughter that you will protect and cherish forever."

Tamlen turned to look at the creature, and Ashara worried that she might lose him. They had often spoke about mating; he believed, despite her protests, that once he held the status of Chief Hunter he would be worthy enough to ask for her hand. After they became Grey Wardens, with no chance of returning to their Clan, they decided to mate once the Blight was ended. But they rarely spoke of children; it was always assumed that they would one day have children of their own, as was the duty of every Dalish, to keep the _Elvhenan_ strong.

But one night around the fire when Alistair had shared with them all he knew of Grey Wardens, he had said that they didn't have children easily. It had something to do with the darkspawn taint coursing through their veins, though he didn't know the details. Tamlen had listened casually to it all, and never said anything to indicate that he was upset.

Ashara never knew that his heart yearned for a child; a child with _her_.

Tamlen's grip tightened on Ashara's hand as he stared at the creature. "You...are not my _vulpasha_." He turned back to Ashara. "I...don't know why, but I know that you're real. Now that you're here, I can see something false about the other."

The little Tianna stopped playing, and turned to look at Tamlen with her eyes full of tears. "Brother! Don't leave me again!" She splashed to the edge of the water and started pleading. "You left me to die, Brother! Those _shemlen_ did horrible things to me; they took away my childhood and laughed when I cried. I called out to you, I begged you to come save me, but you weren't there." Tears poured down her little face. "Please don't leave me again!"

Tamlen tensed, and went very still. Ashara knew she had to do something; she put a hand to his face and made him look at her. "That's not Tianna, _emma'lath_. Tianna died." She felt horrible at being so blunt about something that still pained him, but it needed to be done. "She is at peace now; Falon'Din and Dirthamen have taken her spirit to her resting place. She is with your parents and mine, and knows only happiness."

"I was her brother." Tamlen's eyes shone with the tears he wouldn't shed. "I should have been there for her. But you're right; that's not Tianna." His face contorted with rage, an emotion that was more comfortable for him than sadness. "Just an unnatural creature that would dare to toy with her likeness."

Like the times before, the creatures were angry at the thought of losing their trapped soul. They showed their true form, and screamed in anger. But such was the force of Tamlen's rage; Ashara and Kali didn't even need to raise their weapons. Before they had time to react, Tamlen had already taken his bow, and rapidly shot at the unnatural things.

When they were dead, he hooked his bow on his back, but he wouldn't look at Ashara. "Cursed demon; it won't get away with this."

Ashara nodded. "We'll find it, I promise. Now, let's get out of here."

The familiar ruins were now around them, and Tamlen began to walk towards the glowing pedestal. But before he could take two steps a white mist began to curl around him. "What's this?" He tried to swipe the mist off, but it did no good. "Damn it!" Soon he was gone.

Ashara stared at the place where he had been, and Kali gasped. "What happened?"

"I have no idea." Ashara frowned. "Maybe the demon finally noticed what we're doing, and is trying to keep him trapped."

Kali bit her bottom lip. "Will it work? Do we have to find him again?"

Ashara thought for a moment. "I...don't think so." Her tone made it clear that she wasn't at all sure. She was just trying to rationalize everything, based on her knowledge of the Beyond. "Now he's aware of being in the Beyond; it's not like last time, when the demon caught us off guard. I guess...all we can do is find the others, wake them, and hope they find their way. By freeing them from these dreams we should be weakening the demon's power. Once all of them are free, we should be able to find it."

Kali nodded. "Then we just need to find Zevran, Alistair, and that elderly mage, Wynne."

Ashara's look was one of determination. "We'll free them all."

oOo

The next place the pedestal sent them, was a darkened room that sent a chill up Ashara's spine. She saw ominous tools hanging against the walls, chains dangling from the ceiling, and strange, elevated tables splattered with some sort of dark liquid that spread throughout the room. The very air smelled metallic, almost rusty. _Where in Mythal's name are we?_

A ragged cough caught Ashara's attention, and drew her eyes to a huddle of something moving in the corner. It stood out against the shadowed room, and beside her, she heard Kali gasp sharply.

"Zevran!" She flew over to the bundle, Ashara trailing behind her, and dropped beside him.

Ashara saw that it was indeed Zevran. The assassin was on his knees, huddled over with his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. He wore nothing but a simple loincloth, and she could see raised welts, fresh bruises, and open wounds still bleeding, spread all across his back. From the way the damage trailed across his skin, she guessed that his back wasn't the only thing that had been abused. Yet he wasn't sobbing, or displaying any signs of pain or sadness. He simply held himself tightly, as if to keep under rigid control.

"Zevran," Kali repeated, softly. She put a shaky hand on his back, and his head instantly jerked up.

He looked at the two women as if he had never seen them before, and smiled wryly. "Ah, so they sent you to finish it?" He chuckled harshly. "I must say, you are more pleasing on the eyes than the last two, but that does not mean you will break me."

Kali's eyes widened. "Zevran, don't you recognize us? I'm Kali, and this is Ashara. We're here to help you!"

He coughed, but somehow managed to turn it into another chuckle. "Do you think to break me through pity? A strange tactic, but it _can_ be effective. However, it will not work on me. I will show the Crows that I am worthy to be one of them."

Kali put a hand on each side of his face, and forced him to look at her. "Zevran, you're already a Crow! Ashara and I are Grey Wardens, don't you remember? You came to kill us, but Ashara spared your life and you joined us instead!" She shook his face lightly. "We're your friends, Zevran."

His face was bloody and bruised, but his eyes flicked over Kali. "There is...something familiar about you."

"That's because we're real." She tried to wipe some of the blood off his face. "A demon has us trapped here; we're in the Circle Tower trying to save the mages."

"I...don't know why, but I trust you." Zevran grasped Kali's hand, and with her help managed to climb to his feet. Once he was standing, Ashara saw how bad the damage to his body truly was. Perhaps this was why he had been so eager to escape the Crows. _If this is how they treat their recruits, maybe he was telling the truth when he spoke of his desire to leave._

Kali kept hold of his hands, and tried to smile sweetly at him, but Ashara could see that she was fighting back nausea at his wounds. "Come on, Zevran. Let's get out of here." Her voice barely quivered.

Before he could respond, the door at the end of the chamber opened, and two elves walked in, their tattoos similar to Zevran's. One of them scowled when he saw them. "Wha's this? Tryin' to escape, are we?"

Kali frowned deeply, and yanked her daggers out of their sheaths. "You can't control him anymore!"

Ashara came up to stand beside her, blocking Zevran from their view. "Don't forget, they aren't real, _lethallan._ They're creatures sent to trap him with something that he can't escape from, like everything else here in the Beyond."

Kali nodded, and before the beings even bothered to drop their disguises, she was already lunging at them with a look that reminded Ashara of the failed wedding, when Kali had rightfully killed the _shemlen_ that intended to shame her. She barely had time to cast any spells, before the creatures were dead.

When it grew quiet, the two women turned back to Zevran. His wounds were gone, and he was wearing the simple leather armor he had been in when they entered the Circle Tower. He glanced around, as if waking up from a deep sleep. "Well, that was quite invigorating!" His voice was much stronger than before, and he laughed. "Nothing like torture to get the blood pumping."

Kali stared at him incredulously. "You're _laughing_? Those...creatures...they just...how can you _laugh_ at what they did to you?"

Zevran smiled sadly, and shrugged. "It is nothing but a nightmare, my little Warden. It wasn't real; what else is there to do but laugh?" Kali frowned, apparently unable to think of an argument to that. "But I thank you for coming to my aid." He caught sight of Ashara and his smile widened. "You Wardens are truly gifted with good timing."

"Well, it's good to know us Wardens are good at _something,_" Ashara replied. "Other than killing darkspawn, I mean."

The familiar white mist began twisting around Zevran, who looked at it and crossed his arms. "Another trick? You know, I'm getting rather tired of this."

In a moment he was gone, and Kali frowned. "I...don't understand him. At all."

Ashara couldn't help but chuckle. "I think that's how he wants it."

"What do you mean?"

Ashara shrugged. She felt it was her duty to know everything that went on between those who traveled with her; she would need to rely on them at some point during this war, and would need to know who couldn't be trusted to work together. She saw how Zevran looked at Kali; it was the glance any man has when he finds something attractive, the same look that Alistair gave when he, too, found himself staring at Kali. But while Alistair stammered and hesitated around Kali, Ashara noticed how Zevran flirted with the girl, tried to charm her, and laughed when he caused her cheeks to flush. But he was an assassin, an assassin who claimed that he wanted to be free of his former life. Ashara might now have a better understanding of why he wished to leave, but he would need their help to escape the Crows. What better way to do that than to charm one of those who could save him?

But, Kali didn't seem to see that, and perhaps it was better if she didn't. She seemed almost oblivious to Zevran's flirting, and only noticed when he blatantly called her beautiful. Kali obviously didn't know enough to be wary of a man like him, and Ashara thought it best to keep her ignorant of the game Zevran was surely trying to play. As long as she remained unaware, Zevran's flirting was harmless.

Ashara wasn't going to risk letting the girl get her heart broken by a man who was most likely trying to use her.

"It doesn't matter. Come on, let's find Alistair and Wynne and be done with this place."

oOo

The next place the pedestal sent them was one that Ashara immediately recognized. Ostagar: the first place she, Tamlen, and Kali had been taken once Duncan was finished gathering his recruits. She would never forget the feel of the cold stone beneath her feet, or the emptiness of an open area with no trees.

But this time the place was strangely silent; it seemed almost abandoned. There was only one small fire glowing against the night, and Ashara noticed Alistair sitting near it. Across from him sat Duncan, and the two men spoke enthusiastically, often laughing. Ashara and Kali walked towards the fire.

"When do the rest of the Grey Wardens arrive?" Alistair asked.

Duncan frowned thoughtfully. "They should be here within the next few days. Tomorrow you and I will scout the Wilds, and ensure that this is the correct spot for the King's army to arrive. I can feel the darkspawn, but we want to make sure that the bulk of the horde will show here."

Alistair nodded, and the two settled into a comfortable silence. Ashara marched up to him, ignoring the pang of guilt she felt. She knew Alistair was devastated at the loss of Duncan; since Ostagar he had become withdrawn and melancholy. Even Kali's attempts to talk to him had barely eased his sadness, and Ashara knew better than to approach him herself. Not only did she quickly run out of patience with him, an attitude not at all conducive to helping someone, but she also had a lot of other things on her mind.

"Alistair," Ashara said firmly.

He looked up at her, and scowled. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"You recognize me?" She gave a little sigh of relief. "Well, that makes things a lot easier. Come on, it's time to go."

Alistair frowned. "What are you talking about? Go where?"

"We're getting out of the Beyond. Saving the mages, ending the Blight?" She stared at him; maybe he wasn't as aware as she thought.

He laughed. "What are you talking about? We're waiting for the king's army to arrive; with his army, Loghain's men, and the Grey Wardens we'll be able to end the Blight here, before it spreads." He looked at Duncan. "Isn't that right?"

Duncan nodded. "Yes, once the rest of the Grey Wardens arrive you and Kali can take your Joining."

"Alistair, don't you remember?" Kali walked up to him, and he turned his attention to her. "Ashara and I have already gone through our Joining. We're Grey Wardens, just like you."

"That's not possible; Duncan just recruited you!"

Kali reached for the necklace she wore, the necklace Alistair had given her after they underwent their Joining. It held an amulet that contained the blood of darkspawn, and was a constant reminder of those who didn't make it. She showed the amulet to Alistair, and Ashara reached for her own. She didn't wear it around her neck as Kali did, but she had hooked it to the leather belt around her waist, so that it would dangle at her hip.

Alistair looked at the two amulets held out before him, and frowned deeply. "Wait...I...vaguely remember something..." He rubbed his temple. "Something about Ostagar."

Kali bit her bottom lip. "Loghain betrayed us at Ostagar, and the army died." She hesitated. "Duncan...he died, Alistair."

The false Duncan laughed. "Dead? I've been close many times, but it hasn't happened yet."

Alistair slowly stood up. "No. She's right. Something is wrong here." He looked at Kali, as if her face could hold him to reality. "I...know you, and I trust you."

She smiled. "Come with us, then. Let's get out of here and end these dreams."

The fake Duncan was about as agreeable as the rest of the creatures they encountered. The moment he saw that Alistair was weakening, that he might leave with Kali, he stood up and brought out his weapons. But he never got the chance to use them, as Ashara was waiting for it. She knew by now, that these creatures weren't going to let anyone go willingly; they followed the demon's command. So the entire time Kali had been speaking with Alistair, Ashara had been charging a burst of fire from her staff. When she saw that Duncan was preparing to attack them, she let the fire go.

The creature was dead, quickly, and Alistair ran a gloved hand through his hair. "I...I can't believe Duncan wasn't real. How did I not see that?"

Kali smiled sympathetically. "The demon is taunting us with images it thinks we won't try to leave."

Alistair chuckled nervously. "Yes, well try not to tell everyone how easily fooled I was." He looked at Ashara. "At least, don't tell Morrigan how easily I was fooled." He turned his attention back to Kali, and smiled tenderly. "Thank you, I mean it." The white mist began swirling around him, and his eyes widened. "Wait, what's happening? Hey!"

Soon he was gone, and Kali shook her head. "I really hope we find everyone again."

Ashara smiled. "Don't worry, we will. Even if we don't find them before we reach the demon, once we kill it they won't be trapped any longer."

Kali nodded. "One more to go, then."

oOo

The last dream was what looked like a large hall, full of books. Ashara looked around; this had to be Wynne's dream. She was the only one left. Once she was freed, the demon would no longer be able to draw power from any of them, and she and Kali could reach it. _Only I hope Tamlen and the others are able to find their way to the demon as well; I don't really relish the thought of Kali and I facing it alone._

"Concentrate; keep the energy flowing evenly." Ashara heard the voice, and saw the elderly mage, Wynne, standing near an adolescent boy. She smiled down at him lovingly, the way a teacher would look at their favorite student. Or perhaps the way a mother might look at her child.

The young boy held his hands up and swirled a glowing blue light around them, trying to do as Wynne said. Ashara recognized the blue light as a healing spell, a good spell to learn with. If it went awry, the energy was safe; it didn't stand the risk of harming anyone. She was tempted to watch them, curious to see how mages in the Tower were trained. Her own training had begun at the traditional age of five summers, and had learned by age six to control such a spell. It seemed strange that an adolescent boy would still be learning to control a healing spell.

But, there was no time to watch; they had to leave. She walked up to Wynne, and the old woman turned to look at her. "Hello, dear. Who might you be?" She smiled pleasantly.

Ashara raised an eyebrow. "I thought the Circle Tower spent years teaching their mages about the Beyond; that of all of us, you would be the one to realize where you were. Why am I not surprised to be proven wrong?" She shook her head. She felt only disdain, and perhaps an irritating bit of sympathy, for these Circle mages. Morrigan was quite right about them; they bowed their head to templar masters and obeyed the laws of the Chantry, yet everything Ashara had seen so far only furthered her belief that no one here truly knew what they were doing. Not for the first time, she was grateful for Marethari's teachings.

"I'm Ashara, a Grey Warden." She chuckled. "The Dalish apostate, remember? We were fighting our way through the Circle Tower, where you spent the entire time harassing me about how dangerous apostates are? Doesn't _that_, at least, ring a bell in that empty head of yours?"

Wynne frowned. "I do not know who you are, but I will not allow you to speak to me in such a manner." She placed a protective hand on the boy's shoulder. "Nor will I allow you to speak in such a way before my son."

Ashara narrowed her eyes. Perhaps she should feel more sympathy for this elderly mage, who clearly wished for nothing more than to be with her child, but Wynne's personality made that difficult. She barely knew the old woman, and already had been forced to endure listening to her prattle off about how life in the Circle was the best way for a mage to cultivate their skills. If not for Wynne's gift at healing magic, Ashara would have forced her to wait with the rest of the mages a long time ago.

"I don't really care what you will or won't allow." Ashara clicked her tongue impatiently. "This is nothing but a dream, a vision that the demon of sloth is forcing on us so that it can feed off our energy. We need to go."

Wynne looked at her strangely. "A...dream? No, you must be lying." But even as she spoke the words, Ashara could tell that she saw the truth.

"I'm sorry Wynne," Kali said sadly. "The demon is toying with you."

The little boy turned to look at the old woman. "Mother, don't leave me. Don't you want to stay here, together?"

Wynne hesitated. "No...no, this is wrong." She rubbed her eyes, as if weary. Ashara recognized the look; it was the same look Tamlen and the others had gotten when they began to wake up. "The...Tower needs me; I must save the mages from Uldred's horrible madness."

Ashara nodded, pleased that Wynne was finally talking sense. "Then let's go. Once you're free, we'll find the demon and get out."

"No!" the boy shouted. "Mother! Don't leave me!" The image of a child fell, and Wynne saw the creature for what it truly was.

Soon it was dead, and Wynne turned to look at the two women, trying to smile. "Thank the Maker you arrived when you did." She sighed, and looked at the place where the monster had been. "Come, the sooner we are away from here, the better."

When the white mist began curling around her, Wynne held her staff anxiously. "What...what's happening? Where are you going?"

When she was gone, Kali took a deep breath. "That's it then. Next is the demon, right?" She gripped her daggers tightly.

Ashara tried to smile encouragingly, keeping her own fear at bay. "That's right. Hopefully the others will find their way to the demon." She shrugged. "But if not, it's up to us."

"What do we do?"

"I'm afraid, if we're by ourselves, I'll have to spend my time keeping you healed. Which means I won't be able to cast many offensive spells." Kali paled, and Ashara tried to smile. "But don't worry; with only one person for me to concentrate on, I'll make sure the demon won't hurt you. I promise. And I'll do everything I can to keep your weapons enchanted, so that your blades slice deeper."

Kali swallowed, and lifted her head higher. "O...okay." She breathed deeply. "I'm sure we can do it."

"That's right; we can."

The two women walked over the pedestal, grasping tightly to each others hands. Together, they touched the new symbol, the symbol that would lead them to the demon.

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<br>elgar - spirit  
>Elgar Sister - technically means: spirit sister; used to describe two women who aren't related by birth, but behave as true sisters<br>vulpasha - nickname that Tamlen has for Ashara; she won't tell anyone outside the Dalish (who know the Elvhen language) what it means (Ashara gets too embarrassed)  
>emma'lath - my love<br>da'len - child/children  
>Mamae - mother<br>lethallan - kinsman; a term used for a female friend_

_Well, this chapter was much longer than I originally anticipated, b/c I wasn't sure if I was going to include all of the Fade dreams, but Shakespira encouraged me to do so, telling me that it could add some wonderful insight for everyone. She was quite right. Plus, we can see that the group is starting to grow closer. Well, except Wynne of course. I don't see her and Ashara becoming friends any time soon XD But Ashara and Kali are! Ashara's finally starting to see Kali as more than an innocent girl who needs to be protected; over the past few chapters she's been listening to Kali more and more, but for the first time she realized that Kali is a good friend, someone she can trust. _

_I hope you enjoyed the Fade dreams :D _

_Many thanks to Verpine, Legionary Prime, and Shakespira for the reviews that made me smile! And thank you to everyone alerting or reading! :D _

_~Seika_


	17. Touchstone of Character

_As always, I am completely indebted to the amazing Kira Tamarion for her beta work. Not only did she patiently go through this whole chapter and fix various mistakes [including my continuing 'it's' vs 'its' problem], but she also previewed the chapter and gave me some much appreciated opinions and extremely flattering encouragement._

* * *

><p><strong>Touchstone of Character<strong>

Most of the party was asleep. After the First Enchanter's promise to uphold the treaty, they left and set up camp for the night. They all needed the rest.

oOo

_"What say you, Sister? Will this not create more problems?"_

_ "She knows what she does, Brother. We must trust."_

_ Ashara turned all around, trying to seek out the source of the voices that invaded her mind. There was nothing but mist before her, obscuring her view, clouding any shapes. _

_**They must be demons, playing some new trick of the mind to cause me to relax, to trust.**_

_ "DEMONS! Do not insult us, child!"_

_The anger behind the voice forced Ashara to her knees. She covered her ears to block out the voice, but it slithered through her mind, beating against her soul, setting her very spirit on fire. _

_ "If you are not demons, tell me what you are!" Her own voice was weak, barely above a whisper. She tried to shout, but it felt like a cold hand had clamped over her throat._

_ A feminine laugh greeted her words; so sweet and childlike that it ached to hear. "To what purpose, young one? It is not yet time to understand."_

_Ashara cried out, "Then why taunt me?"_

_A male voice wrapped around her, cold and harsh. "See how she cries? This one has much to learn."_

_"Peace, Brother. She is young, and does not yet understand. We can not judge her for that." _

_ Ashara lifted her head, trying to see these creatures that spoke to her, but still mist fluttered around her. The beautiful, feminine voice grew sad; the longing behind it brought tears to Ashara's eyes. "You have a hard road before you, child. But never forget, it is struggle that tempers the spirit and teaches the mind."_

_ The voices combined, speaking words Ashara couldn't understand. They grew softer, as if fading away. "No! Don't leave! Tell me what you mean!"_

_ Soon they were gone, and the mist began swirling, into bright, sparkling lights, lazily fluttering around her. But instead of feeling enticed by such beauty, she felt threatened. Those lights seemed dangerous to her, though she didn't know why. She swatted at them, angrily batting them away from her. But they enclosed around her_,_ until she worried that she would drown in the__ brightness. She screamed, and tried to push past, but still the lights pressed closer._

_ In a flash of white light, they were suddenly gone, and Ashara stood before a beautiful woman. Her long black hair fell past her knees, clothing her entire body in shadowy tendrils. Her lips were like two drops of blood against the whiteness of her face, and her yellow eyes were wicked and cunning. _

_**Like a wolf's.**_

_ "Do not think to listen to them," the woman warned. Her voice was not painful to hear like the others, but there was power behind it. Her eyes were narrowed, and she studied Ashara as if preparing for her next meal. "You would be a fool."_

_ Ashara clenched her fists. "I don't know what you're talking about!"_

_ The woman laughed. "Oh no? Perhaps you are not as aware as I thought. Then allow me to offer you this: there are moments, brief moments, when we are given a chance to choose our destiny." Her smile widened, but her eyes still glinted harshly. "Make sure you choose wisely."_

_ Her laughter echoed around Ashara, while everything went black._

Ashara woke all at once, with a frightened gasp. She sat up, frantically wondering where she was, when she felt the familiar bedroll wrapped warmly around her. Her eyes darted around; she was in her tent. Tamlen snored softly beside her, his chest rising and falling in easy rhythm.

_Creators, what a nightmare._ Her body felt cold, as if she had been dunked in an icy stream. She knew there was no chance of sleeping, at least not for a while, so she climbed out of bed, careful to not disturb Tamlen, and crawled out of their tent.

Outside, everything was quiet and calm. Alistair and Leliana sat by the fire, softly talking to each other while they kept watch, and she could see that everyone else was asleep. Well, except for Morrigan, who sat by her own personal fire, with a large, open book in her lap. Everything seemed normal.

Irritably, Ashara stood up and stretched her arms. She really should be sleeping; that battle with the possessed Uldred had taken a lot out of them all, especially poor Kali, who had almost gotten her arm snapped in half. Through Kali's tent, Ashara could see the girl curled up in her bedroll, next to her faithful mabari, with only the peeks of her light hair visible from beneath the blankets. She almost never closed her tent, unless it was to change clothing, which was good. Ashara could keep an eye on her.

_Sleep will be good for her._ The demon that was Uldred had managed, during that horrendous battle, to pick Kali up from the floor and slam her back onto the ground, breaking the bones in her arm and twisting them to an unnatural angle. If not for Ashara's healing magic, the damage would have been much worse.

Kali had managed the pain much better than Ashara would have thought. After Uldred was dead, she simply sat against the wall and nursed her twisted arm. She cried of course, who wouldn't, but didn't fly into hysterics. Which was more than could be said for Alistair. The ex-templar about had a heart attack; Tamlen had to threaten him with bodily harm to get him to calm down.

Thankfully, between Ashara, Zevran, and Wynne, Kali's arm should heal fine. Ashara would never have guessed that the assassin would know how to set a bone, but he did it so perfectly that even Wynne couldn't find anything to frown about. The two women poured healing magic into the girl. After her arm began feeling better and she could at least walk, the old mage tried to demand that they stay at the Circle Tower, so that Kali could rest.

Ashara knew better. Kali wouldn't be able to sleep in a cold, stone place filled with the stench of death. It was far better to take her back with them; to guide her to a safe camp, where she could rest by a warm fire, and Ashara could get her new box of herbs, safely stored with Bodahn, and make a tincture to ease her into sleep while her arm continued to heal. But uncharacteristically, she deferred the choice to Kali. After all, it wasn't technically _Ashara's _decision. Kali was the one who needed to relax.

The young woman simply bowed her head, and quietly mumbled that she wanted to sleep at camp. Wynne was displeased, but there wasn't much she could do about it. Especially after everyone else spurred into action. Alistair had grabbed the girl's weapons and pack, and Zevran insisted that he carry Kali on his back. Kali didn't want to, but Ashara agreed that it would be better if she conserved her energy; in the end, Kali was forced to agree.

At least now, though, Kali could sleep. Everyone had offered to take her place for the night watch, and Ashara agreed to let Sten take it. Mythal knew he didn't sleep much anyway. Ashara looked again at the peeks of gold hair spilling out from underneath Kali's blankets, and felt, once again, relief that Kali was alive and safe. She wanted to go sit by her, to check her arm and ensure that the color was still healthy, that the blood wasn't clotting, but she repressed the urge. Kali needed her rest; she didn't want to wake her.

Instead, she walked over to Morrigan, who was sitting, still pouring over that grimoire that Ashara had found in the Circle Tower. She had been enticed by such an old and weathered book, and thought to keep it for herself. Certainly no one in the Tower would notice if she stole such a thing. But when she got back to camp, after Kali had fallen asleep; she was free to open the book. Written in one of the margins, she recognized the name _Asha'belannar_.

At first she thought it must be written by the _Elvhenan_, and had grown extremely excited at the prospect. But the more she read, the more she began to think that the grimoire belonged to Flemeth. When she took it to Morrigan, she found out that it had indeed been Flemeth's. The witch grew as excited as Ashara had ever seen her and asked that she give it to her; Ashara was only willing to part with it after making the witch promise to let her read it, once she was done.

"Have you found anything interesting yet?" Ashara asked. She sat down and spread her skirt around her legs.

Morrigan lifted her head from the grimoire. "I have found...some writing which disturbs me."

"What did you find?"

The witch shook her head. "Allow me to confirm my thoughts, before we speak on the matter."

Ashara let it go. She knew it was pointless to try to get anything out of Morrigan until Morrigan herself was ready to speak. "Am I disturbing you? Do you want me to leave?"

Morrigan shrugged. "You are not troubling me." She marked her place with a scrap of paper, and set the book aside. "Can you not sleep?"

"No." Ashara stared at the fire. "I had...a dream. A dream that bothers me."

"Dreams can often provide useful insight and advice."

"I know; that's what bothers me."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Might I hear of this dream?"

Ashara frowned, trying to remember the details. "I...was surrounded by a thick, white mist, and thundering voices spoke to me, but I...can't remember what they said, something about struggle. Then they were gone, and there were little balls of light that surrounded me until I thought I would drown in them. A woman appeared in front of me. She warned me of...something." She put a hand to her temple, trying to remember any of the words, but couldn't seem to recall them.

The witch furrowed her brows. " 'Tis a strange dream, indeed. Perhaps they were spirits, trying to warn of danger?" Her lips twitched. "We _do_ have a dangerous road head of us, after all."

Ashara shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know; I've never spoken to a spirit before."

"Nor have I, but not all beings in the Fade are evil."

"Now, _that_ I do know." Ashara couldn't help but smile; Morrigan's view of the Beyond mirrored her own. "The Keeper is wise; she taught me well."

Morrigan scowled. "Yet you allowed a leashed mage of the Circle to join us."

Ashara almost laughed. The witch had been greatly displeased, upon their return from the Tower, to learn that Ashara had allowed Wynne to join them. "She's a skilled healer."

"_You_ are a healer; she does not have half your herbal knowledge, and her magical knowledge certainly pales in comparison to my own. I do not see how she can be useful."

Ashara had never before met anyone whose arrogance rivaled her own. "True, she doesn't have our vast knowledge, but it's always helpful to have more than one healer." Her smile faded. "Besides, Kali was hurt. I didn't really care _who_ came with us; I just wanted to get the poor girl to a campsite so she could start relaxing and healing."

Morrigan inclined her head, acknowledging the last part. But then she gave Ashara a sly glance. "Can you not sense the aura of the Fade around the old woman, at least?"

"I can." There was a feeling of the Beyond hovering around Wynne; something that made Ashara's skin crawl. She couldn't exactly tell what it was, certainly it didn't feel evil, but she found herself wondering if Wynne was an abomination. It shouldn't really surprise her, considering all that they had seen at the Tower. "But, that doesn't change the fact that she's useful."

Morrigan lifted her chin. "Very well. But allow me to make this request: should she become threatening, or show any sign of being possessed, you will allow me to kill her."

Ashara smiled. She had planned to do the same thing, if she discovered that Wynne could pose a danger. "Very well. If she becomes possessed, you can kill her."

oOo

Kali's right arm was still aching by the time morning came; she could barely move her fingers without sending a dull pain up her arm. She tried to act like it was fine, the sling her arm was wrapped up in held it steady enough that she didn't keep wincing, but apparently she didn't do as well a job as she thought. Ashara marched right up to her, before they even started packing up camp, and demanded that Kali allow her to re-wrap her arm in the makeshift sling. She didn't want Ashara to do that; it looked as though the Dalish woman had torn the fabric from some of her sleeping clothes. Besides, she _already_ had a sling around her. But her protests fell on deaf ears. Ashara, who looked like such a delicate woman, could be quite threatening when she wanted to be; it was either let her bandage her arm, or risk being put to sleep while Ashara did it anyway.

So she reluctantly complied. "Why do I need a _new_ one?"

"You need fresh bandages wrapped around you daily. You're lucky you don't have an open wound, or I'd be doing this more often."

"But you didn't need to rip up your night clothes for it!"

Ashara smiled. "I can get more clothing; you can't get another arm."

As the day went on, and they started their long hike to Wenham Village, her arm actually did feel a lot better than it had in the morning. After checking the color of Kali's skin, Ashara had used some more of her healing magic on the bone. She told Kali to move it as much as she could, and when she was satisfied that Kali was at least regaining some of her movement back, she gave her a dark powder that Ashara said was from sassafras bark. She told Kali to sprinkle just a small amount of it in her drinks, to make sure that her blood was purified, and that it flowed correctly.

But now she felt kind of strange, since no one would let her do anything on her own. Alistair had torn down her tent and gathered up all of her things, and Zevran insisted on carrying her pack. She felt awkward, useless, but Tamlen told her that even the most skilled of hunters knew that there was no shame in letting oneself heal. She tried to tell Ashara that she was strong to carry her own clothing at least, but Ashara just shook her head and told her to be grateful she wasn't making Sten carry her. Kali was sure she was bluffing; not even Ashara could intimidate the silent Qunari, but she didn't want to test it.

She shivered, and used her good hand to wrap her cloak tighter around her torso. If she remembered correctly, they were entering the first days of Haring, which meant that it would start getting cold soon. Fereldan winters could be harsh; hopefully Ashara would know how to keep them warm.

"Are you cold, my little Warden?" Zevran suddenly appeared next to her, smiling down at her. _By Andraste, can't he at least make a little noise when he walks?_ Every single time he came to talk to her, she ended up jumping out of her skin.

"Just a little."

The assassin chuckled. "Ah yes, Ferelden is such a cold, harsh place, is it not?"

She tilted her head. "You don't like Ferelden?" She couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Of course, she'd never actually _been _anywhere else.

"It is...fine enough, with its dogs and mud." He grinned. "And your people are very spirited."

Kali giggled. " 'Spirited'? That's one way to put it." She knew that the rest of the world seemed to think that Fereldans were comparable to barbarians, though no one could ever tell her why. Maybe they just compared them to the Orlesians, who were supposed to be the very image of grace and class. She hesitated. "Um, do you have alienages in Antiva?"

Zevran looked at her. "There are alienages everywhere, my little Warden."

"Yes, but I was just wondering, are they different from the one in Denerim?"

"I am afraid not." The assassin sounded almost wistful. "They are quite similar everywhere; a filthy place to shove the elves."

She was saddened to hear it, but she couldn't pretend that she was surprised. "Do they have the same rules?"

"What do you mean?"

Kali frowned. "Well, in the alienage where I'm from, elves aren't allowed to carry weapons, or even be outside after dark. If an elf is caught in the market after nightfall, they're most likely mistaken for thieves and...and killed on the spot."

"Ah, there are no such rules in Antiva City. But then, most of the elves there are members of the Crows." He chuckled. "A guard would not dare to tell a Crow that he or she could not carry their weapons."

"An elf could stand against a guard?"

"If they are members of the Crows, certainly."

Kali's eyes widened; it was such an alien concept to her. "Are there many elves in the Crows?"

He nodded. "The Crows often recruit elves. We are lithe, swift with our attacks, and we are considered beautiful by humans."

Ashara suddenly called out from the front of the group, "Kali, we're going to stop in another hour or so to rest, so don't overexert yourself, okay?"

Kali frowned; Zevran saw the look and chuckled. "You do not wish to rest?"

She bit her bottom lip. "No, it's not that. I just...I mean, we need to get to Wenham Village as soon as we can, don't we? Leliana's friend is supposed to meet us there, and she said that if we're on foot it should take us at least a week, if not more, and that's if we don't get lost again. But, it'll just take longer if Ashara keeps making us stop so I can rest." She shifted. "I don't need to rest _that_ badly."

Zevran's eyes fell to her arm, still wrapped in its sling. "But it is a good idea for you to heal. You do not know what can happen, if a broken bone does not heal properly."

"What happens?"

"In some cases, the bone does not heal at the correct angle. If this happens, you could stand to lose feeling in your arm, or even the use of it altogether." He saw her look and smiled. "Fortunately _your_ bone is set straight, so you do not have to worry about that. But your blood still stands the risk of clotting, which can cause problems all on its own."

Kali's eyes were wide. "Is _that_ why Ashara insists on checking my skin's color when she wraps my arm? To see if she can tell if the blood is clotting?"

"Most likely." Zevran chuckled. "Our fearless leader seems to know a good deal about healing; much more than an average midwife or healer. Do what she says for now; she will make sure your arm heals properly."

"She _does_ seem to know a lot, and she always has some herb or tincture to help for almost any problem we've encountered." _Its almost like Ashara just knows what will happen. _

"The Dalish travel the land, much like we are doing now; she is most likely used to these kinds of problems." Zevran snickered. "Though I must say, she and Tamlen are far different from the Dalish I have encountered."

"There are Dalish in Antiva?"

"There are Dalish everywhere."

"In the alienage, we thought they were a myth. We didn't know if they really existed or not."

"Really?" Zevran seemed to find her comment funny. "I suppose...a group of elves living in the woods while collecting our ancient history _does_ seem rather far-fetched. Perhaps as much as the stories of a Witch of the Wilds?" He looked at Morrigan, walking next to Ashara, her head bent while the two of them whispered to one another. "And yet both are true!"

Kali giggled. "I haven't thought of it like that. Already as a Grey Warden, I've learned that two supposed myths are real! I wonder what else we'll end up finding out is true."

Zevran laughed, sharing her amusement. "With our angry leader deciding where we go and what we do? One can only imagine!"

oOo

A little over an hour later, just as Ashara said, the group pulled to the side of the road to sit down for a short time. To let Kali rest, though no one except Ashara said that out loud. Tamlen passed around some of the dried venison he carried, while Leliana and Wynne went to a small stream with pots to gather some water for everyone.

Kali dipped her cup in the pot, and once her cup was full she sprinkled some of the powdered sassafras bark into the water. The taste was gritty and disgusting, but she forced herself to swallow the whole cup.

Alistair laughed at the face she made. "Tell me it's not the water that made you do that."

Kali squinted her eyes and shook her head violently, as if that would somehow rid her mouth of the nasty flavor. "No, it's this powder Ashara gave me."

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded, and took a huge bite of the dried venison; it helped to clear the horrible taste in her mouth. She looked around at everyone sitting by their belongings, eating a quick meal before they set out again. She watched Ashara sitting next to Tamlen and Zevran, animatedly talk about something. But, she noticed that Ashara seemed a bit different. Maybe she was just seeing things, but it looked like Ashara's head was just a little drooped, and her hands sat still in her lap.

_ That's weird; she always moves her hands when she talks._

"Um, Alistair? Have you...noticed anything wrong with Ashara?"

Alistair followed her gaze, and watched the Dalish woman for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I haven't. Should I?"

"I don't know; she just seems a little...different."

"Maybe she's just tired; she was up almost all night last night." Kali looked at him, and he shrugged. "Well she didn't tell _me_ why, but she got out of the tent while Leliana and I were on our watch. She went over to sit with Morrigan, and the two of them were still up when it was time to wake Zevran and Tamlen for their turn."

"You...might be right." But inwardly, she thought that it _couldn't_ be right; when Duncan recruited Kali into the Grey Wardens, one of the first things she noticed was that Ashara and Tamlen barely slept at all. The two of them only started sleeping the night through after they left Lothering, but even after so many days of nothing but quick naps here and there, she had still been animated and eager for movement. She didn't seem as...off as she did now.

_Maybe she's just stressed._ Ashara rarely stopped moving, from the moment she woke, to the moment she climbed into her tent. She decided where they would go, ensured they had enough supplies, made those unique potions of hers, helped cook meals, planned the watch schedules, and was constantly studying strange scrolls that she carried in her pack. In fact, the only rest she ever allowed herself, aside from when she was asleep, was when she and Tamlen disappeared for an hour or more, which they did every evening.

Though, considering what Kali suspected they did while they were gone, she didn't really think that could be considered _restful._

So maybe Ashara was just running herself into the ground. Kali looked at her arm. _When my arm heals, I'll make sure to take over some of Ashara's watches, so she can take a little break._

She looked up and saw Alistair, with a weird look on his face, watching her arm. "How...how does it feel?"

Kali shifted her shoulder, trying to ease some of the tension in it. "It's a lot better now, especially compared to how it was last night. Wynne said that between the healing magic, and the herbs Ashara's been making me take, it should be healed by the time we reach Wenham Village."

"That's good to hear." Relief passed over Alistair's face; he looked down at his hands. "I...I'm sorry that Uldred managed to catch you. I tried to keep his attention on me, but..."

Kali shook her head. "There wasn't anything you could have done. That demon was...strong." She shuddered; Uldred had been such a terrifying monster. She didn't begrudge anyone for her getting hurt, but it had still been a horrible experience. There was a moment, when the demon flung her down and she had flown through the air, when she thought she would die. She didn't care to ever go through _that_ again.

The whole right side of her body had hit the ground with a painful force. She was certain that even her face had slammed into the stone of the Tower; she certainly remembered feeling a burning pain there. But when she got up, there was no damage, other than her arm being twisted out of shape. Zevran said it was because the moment Ashara saw Kali fly through the air, she had sent a blue light of healing to absorb most of the damage.

"Still, I'm sorry that it happened." Alistair wouldn't look at her.

Kali smiled. "Well, I'll be better prepared for the next fight. Once my arm heals, Zevran said he'd teach me how to use shadows to hide, like he does. He says it'll make me harder to find, _and_ help me sneak up on enemies like he does."

Alistair looked at her with something of a strained smile. "Well, that's good. I'm sure he has some talents from his time as a Crow."

"Ashara thought it was a good idea too, and told Zevran to teach me whatever he thought would be useful." She frowned. "But then he started laughing, and Ashara got mad and shot him with lightning. She said, 'That's not what I meant!' " Kali shrugged, as well as she could with the sling. She had tried asking both of them what they were talking about, but Zevran only winked at her and said he'd tell her later, and Ashara just shook her head and told her to go relax. "Either way, once my arm heals he's going to start helping me train every evening." _It'll be weird, though, to have someone other than Mama teach me._

"Well, I've been thinking about training during the evenings, myself." Alistair fiddled with his gauntlets and wouldn't look at her. "Maybe I'll join you two."

Kali smiled. "That could be fun; maybe I should ask Leliana and Tamlen to come too! We can all start training before the evening meals." She bit her bottom lip, thinking. "I'd ask Sten, but I doubt he'd want to join us. He likes to go off by himself when he trains; he told Ashara that others just slow him down. And I think Ashara and Morrigan are going to start practicing spells together. I heard Morrigan say that she wanted to compare knowledge; she wants to know if Ashara knows spells that she doesn't."

"Well, the two of them can go off to do that, away from the rest of us. The last thing we need is Morrigan looking for an excuse to set my hair on fire. Or Ashara, for that matter."

Kali put a hand to her mouth and giggled. "You really don't like them, do you?"

Alistair frowned. "Ashara's...not so bad anymore, now that she's not making sarcastic remarks with everything I say; but she's still about as friendly as an angry mabari." He shook his head. "Morrigan's...just a bitch."

Kali couldn't help but laugh; Alistair and Morrigan's bickers were common amusement for everyone else, except perhaps Wynne. The witch wasn't at all nice to him, it was true, but even Kali could tell that she intentionally baited him, and Alistair always rose to it. He never liked her to get the last word in, and she was always determined to do just that.

"Maybe if you just ignore her, she'll leave you alone."

Alistair grinned. "And let the witch think she won? Perish the thought!"

What he said wasn't exactly funny, but Kali found herself laughing anyway. Alistair soon joined in, and the rest of their group wanted to know what was supposed to be so funny. But the more Kali and Alistair tried to say anything, the harder they laughed. Once the fit came over them, it was impossible to stop, and soon everyone was laughing along with them, with the exception of Morrigan, of course.

Kali wiped tears from her eyes; she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard. It felt good.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Asha'belannar - literally: Woman of Many Years; the name the Dalish give to Flemeth<em>

_I thought about writing the last part of the Circle Tower, but to be honest, it's not really important to the story. We all know what happened, they got their mage allies, saved Irving, la la la. I worried about how it would sound, jumping like that, but Kira offered some wonderful insight and encouragement. _

_ Poor Kali, having her arm broken like that. I researched broken bones, and the problems that could arise from them, to try to give an accurate description of it. I figured that even with healing magic, her arm would still be painful come morning. Healing magic can cure a lot of stuff, but not something so big. But it does help to speed up the cure, and it does account for why, after being flung into the ground, Kali only has a broken arm to show for it. Ashara did what she could._

_Many thanks to everyone reviewing, reading, or requesting alerts. It really means a lot! ~Seika_


	18. Brought up the Past

_Many many thanks to Kira Tamarion, for her patient and awesome beta work, and her endless encouragement_

* * *

><p><strong>Brought up the Past<strong>

The evening air was crisp and cool. The chilly air wrapped around Ashara; she could feel the bite of winter at its heel. Such a night usually made her feel energized and alive; the sting of the chill generally refreshed her spirit.

But not this night.

This night she sat by a black river, wrapped up warmly in a thick cloak. She listened to the lazy flow of the water and watched the bright moon swollen with silver beauty.

It was said that _Mythal_ created the moon so that it would shine its gentle rays on the land while the sun slept. As such, _Mythal_ was considered the Goddess of the Moon, the Peaceful Mother of Life. She was seen in the three phases of the moon's journey as it gently eased from Maiden, Mother, to Crone. _Mythal_ understood women; she cherished her daughters as they too, journeyed through the three phases of life. She sang her haunting melodies for the _Elvhen_, and even though she was trapped in the Beyond, because of Fen'Harel's evil ways, Ashara knew that she still watched over them. A wave of sorrow crept up her soul. _If only she could escape her prison, and help us now. Her children need her._

The deliberate snap of a twig sounded harsh against the stillness of the night, but Ashara didn't bother to turn her head. She knew it was Tamlen. The two of them tried to escape the camp for at least an hour every night, if possible. They needed solace from the constant reminder that their Clan was far away from them, and that they were now in a world of _shemlen_. Even if it was for a short time, these brief respites from their companions were a welcome balm against the pain of loss.

Tamlen silently came up beside her and sat down next to her, pulling his own cloak around him. Unlike Ashara, he never much cared for the cold. She barely paid attention, lost in thought, and so did not notice Tamlen studying her profile. "Ashara, are you alright?"

She stirred out of her thoughts and glanced at him curiously. "Yes, I'm fine. Why?"

His eyes traveled over her face. "You just seem... a bit off." He frowned, as if trying to figure out _what_ exactly was off. "I can't pinpoint what seems wrong, but you just don't seem like yourself."

"Oh." She bit the inside of her cheek. "I'm fine; just tired." She turned to look at the river, ignoring the small feeling of guilt that nagged at her. _Technically it's true; I __**am**__ fine. At least, I think I am._

For the past few days, ever since they left the Circle Tower, she'd been having nightmares. Thundering voices continued to shout at her and she heard chanting in a language that she did not understand. At first, she thought they might be chanting in the ancient _Elvhenan_ tongue, but she couldn't recognize any of the words. Each time she tried to find the source of the strange hymns, she encountered a thick fog that froze her in place. That was when she'd hear a little girl giggling and calling her name; her voice would flit through Ashara's mind and echo against the fog. _Is it Tianna? Are the demons taunting me with her?_

Demons would do anything they could to possess a mage that they liked; they would entice, promise, threaten, or confuse. Anything to intrigue the mage enough to come back to them. Ashara wasn't normally troubled by them _too_ much, except for those cases when her anger became too much to bear, but since her time in the Beyond, she had been thinking about Tianna constantly. Maybe the demons could sense that.

She hadn't been able to sleep the night through since she started having those dreams, and it was starting to take its toll on her. With everything that was going on, she needed her sleep. She needed to be awake and alert; she needed to keep her exhaustion at bay so that she could cast her spells.

She considered taking more of her powdered ginseng, but the herb wasn't something that should be taken daily. After leaving the Clan, she and Tamlen had used quite a bit of it to keep themselves alert; it might be a bad idea for her to ingest any more. If taken too much, the body could become dependent on it. That would be bad.

Tamlen snaked an arm around her waist and she rested her head against his shoulder, comforted by the warmth of his body. He gently kissed her hair. "If something _was_ wrong, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

She pulled away from him and met his eyes. "Of course." But he knew her to well; she saw his lips turn down and his eyebrow rise. "Really, Tamlen. I'm just tired, that's all. I haven't been sleeping well."

He crooked a finger under her chin and made her look at him; he studied her eyes for a moment, and sighed. "You're looking drained, _vulpasha_. Whatever the problem is, you need to find a way to fix it. You know as well as I do what can happen to a mage that becomes too exhausted."

He didn't believe that she was fine; that much was clear. But at least he was willing to let it go. She tried a smile. "I will, _emma'lath_. I promise."

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for a time. At least, it was uncomfortable for Ashara. _I'm not lying to him. Not really._ She really _wasn't_ getting much sleep. Tamlen would want to know about her nightmares, but if she told him, all he'd do was worry and ask questions for which she had no answer. He was a hunter; he was not trained to understand the Beyond, or anything in that realm. He knew demons posed a threat to mages, but that was it. Until Ashara had an answer for him, she didn't see the point of worrying him needlessly.

Besides, it wasn't like _he_ was being completely honest with her. She slid a glance at him; he stared up at the moon with something of a wistful look on his face. He was thinking about his time in the Beyond, when his greatest wish had been to father children with her, and protect his little sister; she knew that much. But so far he had adamantly refused to talk about it, no matter how many times she asked him.

Since their time at the Tower, he had grown slightly withdrawn, even to her, and it made Ashara anxious. He barely said two words to any of their companions, and went about their daily tasks with something of a weary look to his face. Only Zevran managed to make him laugh, with his ridiculous insinuations and amusing comments, but even then, Tamlen only hesitantly laughed, as if for some reason he shouldn't be doing so.

Ashara steeled her resolve. "Since we're clearing the air and voicing our concerns, are we ever going to talk about your dream in the Beyond?"

"No."

She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. "You don't expect me to keep leaving it at that, do you?"

Tamlen sighed heavily, and withdrew his arm from around her waist, shifting a few inches away from her. "Let it go, Ashara." His tone had a warning edge to it, but she paid it no heed.

"No." She scowled. "It's something that needs to be discussed." Unlike her dreams, which had no answer, it seemed to her that Tamlen's concerns were something that would be able to be fixed. So, there was no reason for him to stay silent.

"What's the point? We can talk all day, but it doesn't change the past, and it doesn't change the situation. So why bother?"

"But..."

"Ashara," he interrupted. "Just _let... it... go_!" He saw the refusal on her face and quickly stood up, glaring angrily at her. "If you're not going to drop the subject, I'm going back to camp."

He turned from her and started to walk away; Ashara quickly scrambled to her feet, growing angry. In all their time together, all their fights or moments of anger, he had _never_ turned away from her. "Don't you walk away! You can't just keep bottling all this up inside! Do you want children that badly? Do you still blame yourself for Tianna's death?"

"Why do you need to know?" he suddenly shouted, his fists clenched. "Why is this such a big deal for you? Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because I _care_ about you, you idiot!" She crossed her arms defiantly. "I care about you, and I'm worried about you, and I want to know if you're okay! If you'd just talk to me I could help you!"

"Fine! Okay? Fine, I want children!" Tamlen slammed his foot into a nearby tree; she heard the bark crunch beneath the force of his kick. "I want Tianna alive! I can't escape the image of _my_ little sister, the girl I should have protected, crumpled in a heap while those _shemlen_ stood over her!" His eyes turned to ice. "But what good does _any_ of it do? Tianna's dead! I failed my sister, just as I failed you."

Ashara hesitated, her anger draining away with each word that he shouted at her. Unconsciously, she pulled down the fabric of her shirt, smoothing it over her stomach. "Tamlen, why didn't you just talk to me?"

He ran a hand through his dark gold hair and closed his eyes, trying to control himself. His voice grew quiet; Ashara had to incline her head to hear him. "What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry I lead you into this mess and ruined your life, but I hope you can manage to look past it'?"

"Tamlen..."

"Don't." He wouldn't look at her. "Just don't." His face grew bitter. "_I'm _the one who wouldn't listen to you about the ruins; _I'm_ the one who had to touch that stupid mirror. We'd still be with the Clan if it wasn't for me; we would've had a chance at a future. You heard what Alistair said; we have about thirty years to live. We don't even need the quickening to kill us; I've already done that for us. And we'll never have children." He turned away from her. "Everything you hoped for; your dreams of being the Keeper, your chance to teach the _da'len_ and have children of your own, are gone. I'm the one who failed to protect you, just as I failed Tianna."

He was still facing away from her; Ashara walked slowly to him and wrapped her arms around him. When he didn't pull away, she laid her head against his back. "Tamlen, have you felt like this since we left with Duncan?" _Why didn't he just talk to me?_

She felt him stiffen. "Yes. But what good would it have done to tell you? That _shem, _Alistair, put you in charge of everything; you have enough to deal with without me making it worse."

Ashara forced him to turn around, and when he was facing her she put a hand on each side of his face. "I'm still your First. Whether I have a Clan or not, I will _always_ be First." She dipped into the pool of her energy, and laced her voice with power. She forced each word to lovingly embrace him, to ease his spirit and comfort his mind. "I was raised with an intimate knowledge of the Creators. I would have told you that none of this is your fault; the Creators set us on a path at birth. Us being Grey Wardens, becoming tainted by the darkspawn, all of this was the path chosen for us."

The tension in Tamlen's body slowly retreated, and Ashara forced him to stare in her eyes. "We don't know why Tianna was taken; she was an innocent who didn't deserve her fate. But don't you remember what the Keeper said, when we eased Tianna's spirit to the Beyond? Her mortal pains are forgotten; her spirit no longer cares what happened to her body. Only the living are burdened with memories." That wasn't technically true, but she didn't care. Right now, she wanted to ease his mind. "Tianna, and all of us, know that you loved her. You protected her as best you could; what happened was not your fault."

Tamlen watched her carefully, as if words alone would keep him from drowning. Ashara tightened her grip on him. "I have _never_ blamed you for what happened with the _eluvian_. Our path was set before us, to become Grey Wardens and show the world what the _Elvhenan_ can do. In doing so, we have an even greater chance to serve our people than we would have if we had stayed with them."

Tamlen suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace, digging his fingers in the soft flesh of her arms in his effort to clutch her to him. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. "As far as children; if _Mythal_ wills it, it won't matter that we are Grey Wardens. We will be blessed."

She lifted her head and met his eyes; Tamlen backed her against the tree he had so harshly abused, and pressed his lips against hers hungrily, as if desperate for her touch. His hands began to roam her body, finding their way beneath the cloth of her shirt to explore her skin. She shuddered against his touch, and closed her eyes to send a silent prayer to the Great Mother.

_Mythal, let me ease his soul. Let me give him what he wants; I beg you._

oOo

Kali was really starting to grow irritated with this wounded arm of hers. Over the course of the past few days she had started regaining most of her movement, but it was still stiff and achy, and Ashara insisted on keeping it bandaged until it healed completely. _Oh well, at least she's not making me take that disgusting sassafras powder anymore._

She sat near the fire, next to Alistair and Wynne, and tried to clean the blades of her daggers. It was slow and awkward work; she had to lay the dagger against her leg and only use her left arm to wipe off the dirt and grime. The oil mixture Ashara had given them was useful for cleaning blood and dirt off of a blade, but it had to be scrubbed into the steel vigorously, and her left arm was growing tired. Alistair kept offering to help, but she refused; he was cleaning his own sword. She didn't want to give him extra work to do.

She pressed down on the blade, using the worn piece of cloth to scrub the oil mixture into the steel, and noticed a slight shifting of the blade. She frowned, and pressed the blade again. Sure enough, it shifted again; it was becoming loose from the hilt. _Well, that's not good._

With a sigh, she set the blade down; she was going to need to buy some new daggers soon. _Maybe I can buy some when we reach this village._ She'd have to ask Ashara, who kept a small purse of coins just for such purposes.

Alistair noticed Kali frowning at her dagger, and laughed. "Whatever it did to offend you, I'm sure it's very sorry."

Kali couldn't help but giggle; Alistair was always making goofy jokes over the slightest thing. She didn't think there was anything that could staunch his strange sense of humor. "The blade is getting loose from the hilt; I'm going to have to get a new one soon."

"I'm sure Ashara would be willing to give you a stack of coppers."

Kali smiled. Ashara's confusion over coin was a source of amusement for all of them. She had no idea what anything was worth, or how many silvers there were in a sovereign. She tried to give Bodahn a copper for that new box she used to carry her herbs; when he told her it was worth at least ten silvers, she started cursing and accusing him of trying to cheat her. Kali tried to explain it all to her, but the Dalish woman just shook her head and said it was stupid anyway. She couldn't understand how metal could be worth anything; she claimed it was better to trade skills, or items.

Alistair's amusement soon faded and he turned back to his sword. "Well... since you can't really fight with your arm anyway, just... just know, that if we get attacked, I'll... make sure no one gets to you. I'll... keep you safe." His ears flushed red, and he suddenly became very intent on cleaning the blade.

Kali picked her dagger back up and wiggled the blade, trying to see how loose it was. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that. Ashara makes me stay in the middle of the group during the day when we travel, and she said that if someone attacks us, she'll cast a shield around me to absorb damage." The blade started shifting more; either she was making it worse, or it was originally worse than she thought. Either way, she probably shouldn't be using it anymore.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind it." Alistair didn't look at her. "I uh... I don't want you to get hurt again."

Kali tilted her head, and gazed at him curiously. "I...don't want to be hurt again, either." Alistair sighed and shook his head; she felt like she had missed something, but she shrugged. "I doubt it's going to be the last time one of us gets hurt; I know that sounds bad, but remember that arrow that hit Ashara?" She cringed. "I mean, even if somehow, we manage to find the Archdemon without being attacked by anything else, I doubt we're going to walk away from _that_ fight unscathed."

She lowered her head, and her voice grew quiet. "I asked Ashara what she thought of the battle with the Archdemon. She got really still, and then told me that she doesn't expect us to survive it, but that if we manage to take the Archdemon with us when we die, it will still be worth it."

Alistair scowled. "Why would she tell you something like that?"

"Because she knows that I wanted her to be honest."

"Speaking of Ashara, do either of you know where she went?" Wynne suddenly asked, lifting her head from the book open in her lap. _What is it about mages and their books?_ Ashara and Morrigan were almost always reading; Kali thought it was just them, but apparently it was common amongst magic users. "There are things I wish to speak with her about."

Kali picked up her second dagger. "I think she and Tamlen are spending some time together." This dagger seemed fine enough; the blade was still attached firmly to the hilt, and she couldn't see any denting. "They usually go off for about an hour or so after we set up camp."

Wynne pursed her lips. "Is that truly wise?"

Kali angled her dagger against her leg, and dipped the piece of cloth into the oil mixture; she was barely paying attention to Wynne. "What do you mean?"

"I... question the wisdom of two Grey Wardens becoming involved in such a manner."

For the first time, Kali lifted her head and looked at the elderly mage. "They were involved _before_ they became Grey Wardens. They're from the same Clan, and Ashara said that they've been in such a relationship for about two years now; they were going to be mated, before Duncan took them away."

Wynne hesitated. "Still, I do wonder if it is wise for them to continue."

Kali looked at the elderly mage. Wynne was very nice, and had a lot of wisdom to grant, but sometimes she liked to dance around a subject without saying what it was; she seemed to prefer to wait until others invited her to speak. "Why would it be a problem?" She couldn't see how Ashara and Tamlen's relationship could cause any problems.

Wynne raised herself up a little, and Kali knew enough to give the elderly mage her full attention. She recognized Wynne's gesture; _hahren_ Valendrian often had the same air about him whenever he was going to say something important.

Sure enough, the Circle mage cleared her throat and studied Kali thoughtfully. "They are two Grey Wardens who are tasked with ending the Blight. I worry that such affection for one another might cloud their judgment, or keep them from doing their duty."

Kali tried not to smile since Wynne was clearly being serious, but found it difficult. _She obviously doesn't know Ashara very well._ "I don't think we have to worry about that; Ashara doesn't really let _anything_ get in the way of doing what she needs to do."

Even Alistair chuckled. "Now _that's_ true, at least. Whatever we might think of Ashara, angry and sarcastic as she is, she _does_ always manage to get things done." Kali couldn't keep her straight face any longer, and succumbed into giggles.

Wynne watched the two of them, still frowning in thought. "I wonder, why did you choose her to lead us? Would it not have made sense to choose someone who understands the human world? Why not you, Alistair?"

"Maker, no!" Alistair held his hands up. "You've met me, Wynne. I've managed to lose almost everything I've been carrying, at least once, if not more. If I was in charge of leading us, we'd try to make our way to Denerim, and somehow find ourselves in Orlais."

Kali managed to stop laughing, and looked at Wynne. "Ashara was raised to lead her Clan; she knows how to keep us organized, and how to decide when and where to go."

The elderly mage inclined her head and let the subject go. She and Ashara had already bickered a few times, but even she couldn't deny that the Dalish woman had a firm grasp on leadership. The two of them didn't really like each other, but Kali could tell that they had a grudging respect for one another.

The three of them settled into a comfortable silence, and Kali decided that maybe now was a good time to approach a subject that had been bothering her for a few days now. "Wynne, may I ask you a question?" Wynne nodded for her to continue. "I'm... curious about the Circle Tower. It... well, it seemed like such a sad place to live. Is it really as bad as the alienage where I'm from?" Zevran had compared the two lifestyles, and she was curious to know if it was true.

Wynne frowned. "I... would not know." She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I have never been to an alienage."

Alistair watched Kali curiously. "What was it like, living in the alienage? Was it as bad as we hear?"

Kali thought at first that they must be joking, but then she realized that maybe they really _didn't_ know what it was like. Most humans thought they were too good to visit such a filthy place. "Well, it's not exactly a clean place. Everyone there is really poor, so when they _do_ manage to get a few coins, they spend it on food and clothing." She managed a small smile. "But, my family and friends were there, so it wasn't _completely _horrible. Everyone knows each other, and most of us try to help each other out when we can. We all celebrate birthdays and festivals together. It... could be worse."

She lowered her head. "The problem, is that most of the humans tend to treat us badly, because they know we can't do or say anything about it. That... that makes living there hard." Involuntarily, memories of the failed wedding, and Shianni's torn clothing swam in her mind.

Alistair watched her carefully. "There is really no one that you could go to for help?"

Kali shifted nervously, urged by her memories to tell the truth. "Um, well, the son of Denerim's Arl, Lord Vaughan, would often come to the alienage and... and take some of the women. They... they always came back the next day, but... you could tell what he... what he did to them. None of his guards or servants seemed bothered by it. I don't know about the other nobles, but Father said that even if they _did _know, they wouldn't care."

Alistair was aghast. "_What_? And the humans just _allow_ that?"

Something about his tone made Kali lift up her head; she looked him square in the eyes. "We're elves, Alistair. To most humans, we're not real people."

"Well, I can assure you that _nothing_ like that happens in the Circle," Wynne declared. "I find it absolutely _abhorrent_ that someone would take advantage of their position to do something so cruel."

Kali wasn't sure if she believed Wynne or not. "It just seemed to me... that the Circle was like the alienage, while the templars were like the humans. That one templar, Cullen, kept shouting about how dangerous mages are, and how they can't be treated like normal people." She bit her bottom lip. "I just, I don't think that one group should have total power over another group; it seems to me like most people abuse that power."

"The templars are followers of Andraste." Wynne said the words firmly, but Kali didn't see why that would stop the templars from abusing power. _Most_ people followed Andraste, even Lord Vaughan. She nodded anyway, because it seemed like Wynne wasn't going to admit that the Tower might be a bad place to live. But it sounded to her, that the elderly mage was trying to convince no one but herself.

Kali heard someone approaching, and lifted her head to see Zevran walking over with his energetic steps. He smiled at the three of them. "You all look so serious! Such unflattering expressions you three have."

Wynne stiffened; she liked the assassin even less than she liked Ashara. "We were indeed having a serious discussion, young man. I would thank you to not interrupt us."

"Tsk tsk tsk, such harsh words, my dear." Zevran pretended to be hurt. "You wound me; I may need to lay my head on your bosom to cry." Wynne's frown deepened, and Kali looked away to hide her smile. Zevran was as bad as Morrigan; the two of them had a gift at riling people up. He knew exactly how frustrated he made people, and seemed to enjoy it immensely.

He continued to laugh at the elderly mage's expression. "I am jesting. In fact, I came to see the little Warden." He smiled down at Kali. "You wished for me to show you how to hide in the shadows, yes?" Kali nodded. "You do not need both of your arms for such a task, so I thought we should begin tonight. I imagine it will be more difficult, once we reach Orzammar."

Alistair frowned. "We need to finish cleaning our weapons before we can use them again. Besides, one of Kali's daggers is broken; she can't use it at all."

"Just as well, since she does not need her weapons."

Kali smiled. "I was about finished cleaning my daggers anyway." She was eager to start training; it would feel good to do _something_, even if her arm was still in its sling. "Let me just put my things away."

She gathered up her daggers and the piece of cloth in her left arm, and slowly stood up, trying to juggle it all. She turned and walked over to her tent, and so did not notice the triumphant smile on Zevran's face, as he met Alistair's eyes.

oOo

The moon had nearly completed its journey across the sky, and the camp had succumbed to a peaceful silence. Ashara fed another stick into the small fire and listened to the familiar crackling that brought such comfort to her. She had started to find a kind of contentment among random similarities between the life she now led, and life with the Clan. Her people might be gone from her, but the sounds of the fire were still the same. There was a strange relief in that knowledge. She watched the fire burn a little brighter; slowly heating the pot of water she had set over it, and rested her chin on her palm, closing her eyes against the warmth that flickered across her face.

Next to her, Tamlen talked and laughed quietly with Zevran. The two men were taking their watch, and Ashara had thought to join them. She wasn't able to sleep anyway, and after this evening's events, she wanted to be near Tamlen. She wanted to assure herself that he was going to be all right.

He certainly _seemed_ fine; he was talking more than he had before, and she noticed that his shoulders weren't so tense anymore. _Maybe all he needed was for me to assure him that this wasn't his fault._ She should have noticed it sooner, or made a point to tell him that she didn't blame him for anything that had happened. Which was true. She blamed the _eluvian_, she blamed fate, but she didn't blame Tamlen.

_Well, what's done is done. At least Tamlen seems more relaxed than before._ Talking with Zevran seemed to be good for him. Despite the assassin's flirtation attempts with the two of them–attempts that he knew would lead nowhere–he did seem to have a way of making Tamlen laugh.

It made sense, if Ashara thought about it. Tamlen was a hunter. He spent his days will his fellow men; laughing at absurd jokes, planning hunts together, and bragging about their exploits. Just as the women would sit around the camp and talk of things that only other women would understand, men did the same. Zevran was the first companion, aside from Ashara, that Tamlen could really talk to. Especially once he discovered that the assassin's flirtation attempts were mostly harmless. It was like being around a second Fenarel.

Their conversation reached a pause, and Zevran turned to glance at Ashara. "Ashara? I've... a question, if I may."

Ashara glanced at the water to see if it was boiling yet. "No Zevran, I still won't share Tamlen. Not even for 'just a moment so you can show him something'." She could see bubbles on the bottom of the pot; the water would be ready soon.

Tamlen shook his head and raised his eyes to the sky, and Zevran laughed. "Truly? Alas, the poor man must do without." Tamlen sighed audibly. "But my question was something different."

Ashara smiled. "Really? Now, I'm intrigued."

"I am wondering, what is it you plan to do with me, once your journey is over?" Zevran hesitated. "One can only assume that, once your business is done, you will have no need for an assassin to follow you around. Am I wrong?"

Ashara raised an eyebrow. _Well, this isn't want I expected._ She had better be careful in her answer. "I suppose, I hadn't really thought of it. Leliana said that you owed me something called a 'blood debt'. How does that work, exactly?"

"Since you spared my life, I must now follow you until I am able to save your life and repay the debt. It is a strange honor code, I know, and most of the Crows would not uphold such a thing. But, I believe differently." He shrugged. "I assume that that moment will come when we fight this pesky Archdemon."

The corners of Ashara's lips twitched. "Well, if you _do_ follow us into the battle with the Archdemon, there are really only three outcomes. The first one is that you don't bother to save me, and I am killed. In that event, I would be dead, so I assume I wouldn't care one way or the other."

She saw Tamlen stiffen. "Well, _I'd_ care." He gave Zevran a warning glance. "If that situation ends up being the outcome, _I'll_ kill you."

Zevran nodded, as if the point was well made, and Ashara continued. "The second outcome, is that you die during the battle, whether to save me, or simply because it's a battle and I expect there will be casualties. In that case, you'd be dead, and wouldn't owe anyone anything at all." Zevran chuckled; Ashara tapped a finger against her chin. "The last possible outcome is that we both somehow survive. In that event, if you have fought against the Archdemon with us, I would consider your debt honored, whether you saved my life or not. You could go, if you wanted."

She watched, as Zevran's eyes trailed to a small tent set a little ways away from the fire. Inside, Kali was sleeping soundly. She never closed her tent, and Ashara could see her sprawled out underneath her blankets, with Drake curled up against her back. Zevran hesitated. "And... what if I did not wish to leave?"

Ashara stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. _Careful; we still need him to help us._ "I suppose... if you still desired to follow the Grey Wardens around, you would be welcome." _I don't like how he hovers around Kali, but if he plans to follow us against the Archdemon, I would be a fool to turn him away._ She smiled sweetly, to hide her thoughts. "We will mostly likely need all the help we can get."

Zevran looked back at the fire. "What do you Grey Wardens intend to do, once this is over?"

Tamlen chuckled. "You mean if we somehow manage to survive? I know _I_ plan to eat the biggest meal I can find." He winked at Ashara. "And then, I plan to take Ashara off somewhere private, where we'll stay until morning."

Zevran laughed, and Ashara just shook her head. _Oh yes, he's definitely feeling at least a little better._ She found herself chuckling, more at the relief of that knowledge, than Tamlen's comment. "After that we're going to search out our Clan," Tamlen continued, "at least for a small visit. Then, I suppose we'll have to start trying to rebuild the Grey Wardens. Duncan said there were about thirty of them in Ferelden, before the battle at Ostagar; now there's only four of us."

Ashara gave Zevran a sly look; she knew who he was _really_ asking about. "I think Kali wishes to go with us as well. She said that if given the chance, she wants to make sure her family is safe; but she's thrilled at all this traveling that we're doing. Though I think that she just doesn't want to go back to her life among the _shemlen_. Not that I can blame her."

Zevran glanced back at the tent, where Kali slept. "Was her life that difficult?"

Ashara eyed him suspiciously. "Now, why would you need to know about that?"

He shrugged. "She lived in the slums of Denerim, yet she's more innocent than a Chantry-raised human. One would imagine that she would be similar to a hardened criminal."

Ashara looked at the young woman sleeping soundly in her tent. "I've wondered the same thing, but I honestly couldn't give you an answer. Certainly, she has seen enough _shemlen_ cruelty to poison even the most gentle of souls."

"What do you mean?"

Tamlen crossed his arms. "When Duncan brought us to that place where the flat-ears live, Kali and some of the other women were kidnapped by a _shemlen_ lord." He scowled. "It was obvious what he planned to do to them."

Ashara let out a hiss. "Those flat-ears just stood silently and did _nothing_, and Duncan would not allow us to react. Everyone just let the women be taken." To this day, she still couldn't understand their reactions. But Kali never raised the subject, and Ashara felt that she shouldn't bring it up. "I don't _exactly_ know what happened, but after a few hours Kali came stumbling back, with the women behind her. She was covered in blood, and told her elder that she had killed the man who kidnapped them." She frowned. "The guards came and tried to take her away; they said it was punishment for killing a human. But Duncan conscripted her, and brought her to the Grey Wardens."

Zevran continued to stare at the fire, and Ashara watched him closely. "I can only imagine that this sort of thing is not uncommon there." She gave him a feral smile and her voice took on a sweet lilt. "So, I'm sure you can understand why I tell you, that after all she has gone through, if your smooth words and flirtations bring her even _one_ moment of pain, I will swiftly take back the life I spared." _Well, so much for choosing my words carefully. _But his asking about Kali brought up a sort of protective feeling in Ashara, something akin to what she might feel for a younger sister.

Zevran chuckled quietly. "Such a good friend you are." He held up his hands, trying to look the picture of innocence, but Ashara wasn't fooled for a moment. "I assure you, my intentions are nothing but pure for the little Warden." He started laughing. "Well, as pure as you can expect, from someone like me."

Ashara scoffed. "That's what worries me." The water was boiling now, and she carefully spooned some of it into a small cup. She reached for her new box of herbs, and pulled out some chamomile flowers, dropping them into the water. She set the cup aside to let the flowers steep. Hopefully, by the time Tamlen's watch was over, the chamomile could help her sleep. There was only a few hours until dawn, but it was better than nothing. If she didn't manage to get some sleep soon, she would be forced to mix up a sleeping potion.

Zevran leaned back on his hands. "So, what are our plans after we reach this village, and deal with the dwarves?"

Ashara shrugged. "Leliana showed me a map of Ferelden, and pointed out where our destinations were. It seems like it might be best to stop at this Redcliffe Village." She rolled her eyes. "Alistair seems obsessed with meeting the _shem_ lord there, and it's on our stop to the Brecilian Forest; we might as well stop there and see if he can help us. Then, we'll try to find the _Elvhenan_." She pulled her knees up. "I hope the Grey Wardens manage to somehow get past the border and help us; we're going to need someone to scout the land and determine where the darkspawn are headed. Since they were marching towards Lothering, we can assume that they're heading north, but that's all we know."

The assassin smiled. "You know, I am coming to think that life with you Grey Wardens, might actually be as interesting as life among the Crows."

Ashara lifted the cup; it looked like the flowers had steeped enough. She took a small sip. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The three of them settled into a comfortable silence, and Ashara felt Tamlen slowly shift towards her. He reached out and grasped her free hand tightly; she turned to look at him and mouthed the question, "Are you alright?"

He bent his head, and the meaning was clear; he hadn't completely come to terms with his doubts, not that she had expected that in such a short time, but he had started the process of healing. That, at least, was something. His eyes were warm as he gazed at her, and Ashara smiled.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>vulpasha - nickname Tamlen has for Ashara, but they won't tell anyone outside the Dalish what it means (she gets embarrassed)<br>emma'lath - my love  
>eluvian - technically: mirror; used for the mirrors that the elves of Arlathan used for communication<br>da'len - child/children  
>hahren - the Dalish use it for 'elder' as a sign of respect; the city elves use it as a sort of title for their leader<em>

_**A/N:** Also, I thought to explain the word "quickening". It's not technically a Dalish word, but it's used to describe the effect that the humans have on elves. Being near humans causes a quickening in the elves' blood, and makes them age faster. It's what took away their immortality, and one of the many reasons the Dalish stay away from them._

_I want to send out another thank you to Kira; she helpfully pointed out to me that I hadn't brought Tamlen to the front much yet, and it was time to define his character. She was quite right; there hadn't been much of an opportunity to really bring him forward. I hope I did a good job to help you see who he is. _

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are just reading; it really means a lot!_

_Also, this is probably the last chapter I'll post for this story before Christmas. So... Blessed Yule, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanza, Happy Chanukah! I hope your holidays are filled with laughter and happiness!_


	19. Thunder Chasing the Wind

_Many, many thanks go to the amazing Kira Tamarion, for her awesome beta skillz, her patience, and her encouragement. She is a wonderful inspiration, and if you haven't read her story: The Heart of the Leader, I really encourage you to do so._

* * *

><p><strong>Thunder Chasing the Wind<strong>

Kali had never been so relieved to set foot in a village before. She loved all the traveling that they were doing, and she _adored_ the chance to visit new places, but after so many weeks on foot while they stumbled around the frozen mountains, she was thrilled at the chance to relax in a warm building, or maybe sit next to a crackling fire. Maybe she wasn't as cut out for sleeping on the ground as she thought. At any rate, she had a much higher respect for the Dalish now, but Ashara said that even _they_ had aravels, a type of cart if Kali remembered the description correctly, laden with warm furs, in which to sleep.

Kali shivered. The Frostback Mountains were covered in nothing but snow and ice; she felt like she hadn't been warm in months. She had a thick wool cloak wrapped tightly around her torso, but even that didn't seem to do much to keep out the frigid air.

She couldn't even sleep in her tent anymore; the only relief she could get was to pile herself with all the blankets she could find, and sit as close to the fire as possible. Zevran kept joking that she needed a warm body to lie against, but Ashara cut off the assassin and said that she would send Tamlen and Alistair out to gather some fur that they could use. But so far, they hadn't found much; most of the animals had already hidden for the winter.

Kali exhaled deeply, and looked at the Dalish man. Out of everyone with them, only Tamlen seemed to be suffering as badly as she. He was wrapped up so tightly in his cloak, that all she could see was his red nose and his narrowed eyes, glaring at the snow as if he could scare it away.

Ashara, on the other hand, seemed quite immune to the freezing air. Her normally white face was flushed with energy, and her dark violet eyes sparkled; she practically ignored the cloak swirling around her body.

She gazed at the small village in front of them, and turned to Kali. "You said that you needed some new weapons, correct?" Kali nodded, too miserable to say anything. Ashara reached into her skirt and drew out the purse of coins she kept. "Here, just take the whole thing; buy whatever you need. When you're finished, meet us at the Inn." She glanced at Leliana. "We're going to see if Gavan is here, with the Grey Wardens from Orlais."

Zevran stepped forward, and smiled. "I will keep the little Warden company." He winked at Kali. "In case she should keep slipping on the ice." Kali bit her bottom lip and refused to say anything. _It's not my fault that ice is slippery._ No one warned her that the path had been frozen, until _after_ she had already fallen. Ashara chuckled, and led the rest of their group towards a large building with faint sounds of music drifting from it.

Kali looked around the small village. The place would seem very cozy and welcoming, if not for the snow falling from the sky and the cold air so frigid that even the water froze. Down the main path of the village, she could see a looming mountain off in the distance; Leliana said that Orzammar was within. Hopefully, it was at least warm.

She wandered over to a small building with a sign over the door that indicated it was a weapons shop. She and Zevran stepped inside, and a small dwarf lifted himself up from behind a large anvil. " 'Ello Strangers. You 'ere to buy somethin'?"

Zevran chuckled. "All in good time, my fine dwarven friend." The dwarf's only response was to grunt, and go back to his work.

Kali was amazed to see all of the swords, daggers, axes, and even hammers decorating the walls. They were beautifully crafted, finer than anything she had ever seen before. "You made all of these?"

The dwarf grunted again. "Aye. Everything is forged right here." He patted the large anvil. "Brought it up with me from Orzammar."

Her eyes fell on a small set of daggers, set on a shelf against the wall. She picked one of them up; the blade was sleek and sharp, and the hilt was made of a smooth ivory, with carvings of dark wood etched into it. She gripped the hilt and flicked her wrist; the dagger was light and comfortable in her hand. It was perfect.

Zevran walked over from the opposite side of the shop, and inspected the second blade. He lifted the dagger, and after a moment of looking it over he handed it to Kali. "These are fine daggers; they should suit you perfectly."

She beamed; picking out new daggers was almost as much fun as choosing different fabrics to sew with! She took the daggers over to the dwarf. "I'd like to buy these, please."

"I also have another suggestion," Zevran interrupted. He held up what looked like a thick leather belt. Kali looked at it closely; there were five small sheaths on each side, designed to sit against each hip, and in them were what looked like thin knives.

She must have looked confused, because Zevran chuckled. He pulled out one of the knives, and Kali saw the thin and dangerously sharp blade. "A blade such as this is called a _stiletto. _Most people use these for close combat, but I've found that they are quite useful as throwing knives. Since the blades are so thin, they can easily go through chainmail, or pierce armor." He shrugged. "You said you practiced throwing knives after...after your mother died, so I thought you might find these useful."

She hesitated. After Mama was killed, Kali didn't know what to do with her training. She had wanted to keep Mama's lessons close to her heart, to keep the skills her mother had given her, but the training had been so painful without Mama's bright smile. For the first few months, Kali had aimlessly started throwing knives at boxes and barrels, unsure of what she wanted to do. Over time, she started trying to perfect her aim. It was something to keep Mama's memory alive, while holding back the pain over her loss.

A light flush crept up Kali's cheeks as she met Zevran's eyes. _He remembered._ She felt uncomfortable talking about Mama to others, except perhaps Ashara, but while Zevran began training Kali to hide in the shadows, she learned that it was easy to share things with the assassin; he had a nonchalant attitude about almost everything. He never judged, and he never offered any pity or sorrow. Kali was extremely grateful for it. She didn't want pity for her mother's death; she just wanted the opportunity to tell someone what happened. It had been such a dark and shameful secret in her house, a memory that Father pretended to ignore. But Kali didn't want to deny Mama's existence.

Zevran always listened, and even asked questions about her mother. By talking to him, Kali was given the chance to share Mama's memory.

"So, what'll it be?" the dwarf demanded. "Yer costin' me coin."

"How much for all of this?" She gestured to the belt that Zevran held, and the two daggers in her hands. It was going to be expensive, but she had to ask.

The dwarf scratched his beard. "For both, let's see. How 'bout five sovereigns?"

Kali's heart sank; she knew that the purse Ashara carried wouldn't have that much money. Even if she could barely scrape enough to buy both, she couldn't spend _all_ of their coin on just herself. With a resigned sigh, she opened the purse. _Don't be upset; those daggers are still better than anything I've ever even __**seen**__._

But inside the purse was a large pile of gold coins. Kali's eyes widened. "Where did Ashara get all this coin from?"

Zevran chuckled. "She has been making Leliana sell those strange potions of hers. Apparently, the combinations she mixes sell for quite a high price; they are considered very unique." He beamed. "Haven't you noticed that even though she makes at least ten different concoctions every evening, we rarely use them?"

He had a point. Ashara was constantly gathering and mixing herbs, and storing them in that huge box that Bodahn carried for her, but Kali couldn't remember the last time they had used any of them. The Dalish woman mixed everything from ointments for cuts and bruises, to syrups for various coughs and sneezes. She put them in secure wooden vials, safely put in her box, and only rarely brought them out.

Kali had thought that she was just saving them, in case they were needed, but apparently she mixed them solely for the purpose of making coin. That explained why she sent Leliana and Alistair to scout each day; she wanted to keep their group hidden from most eyes, but the two humans would try to seek out merchants to keep their supplies stocked. _And, apparently sell Ashara's potions._

With all of the money in the purse, she had _more_ than enough to pay for everything. She could barely contain her excitement as she passed the five gold coins to the dwarf, and hooked the thick belt around her slim hips. The daggers slipped easily into the sheaths against her outer thighs, and as she and Zevran walked out of the shop, towards the Inn, her heart was lifted. For the first time since she became a Grey Warden, she felt...useful. She wouldn't have to rely on someone else to keep her protected; she could fight and defend herself and others.

Her arm had completely healed, and she had almost perfected the art of hiding in the shadows. "The trick," Zevran always said, "is to use what is already there." Hiding did no good if one was standing in bright sunlight, with no shadows around to use. But if the area was _already_ darkened, a skilled rogue could gather the shadows around them, and enemies would never even notice their approach. Zevran said it was always best to hide in plain sight, that people could be fooled by what was right in front of their eyes.

_And now, I have some __**real**__ weapons to use!_ The daggers were light, and easy to swing, and the stilettos were practically weightless. She finally felt secure in the fact that she was no longer a liability. She didn't need to be watched; Ashara didn't need to waste her energy casting a shield around her. It was a good feeling to know that she would be able to help the others.

_I wonder...would Mama be proud of me?_ Kali's heart fluttered as she thought of her mother. Mama did everything she could to raise Kali with a sense of self-confidence. She constantly praised Kali's skill with her daggers, and always said that she would rest easy, knowing that Kali had it in her to protect herself. _Yes, I think she's proud of what I'm doing; she always said that I was meant to do more with my life than hope for a good husband to take care of me._

What about Jandar, would he even recognize her? The last time he had seen her, she had been pale and scared. Her dress had been stained with Lord Vaughan's blood, and Duncan dragged her away from the alienage. There wasn't even any time to tell him good-bye. That was the last image he had of Kali.

She was different now. She wasn't so weighed down by sadness anymore; she felt like a dazzling morning sun had finally risen over her life. For the first time, she was able to look towards the future. She slid a glance at Zevran; his hair seemed to glow under the sunlight. He was quickly becoming a good friend. She made herself look away from him; she had _many_ good friends around her, friends who cared about her and would help her in any way that they could. She had a lot to be grateful for.

When they reached the Inn, Kali saw that everyone was seated around a large table. The scents of hot food, delicious bread, and warm soup reached her nose, and her stomach growled. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. Since she had undergone her Joining, her appetite had increased tenfold. It seemed like she was almost always hungry, but Alistair had laughingly told her that it was common amongst Grey Wardens.

The two elves joined the others at the table, and Leliana passed each of them a plate piled high with food. Kali tore off a chunk of bread; it tasted even better than it smelled. Everyone else was eating as much food as they could handle, even Sten was working his way through an entire loaf of bread. But Kali noticed that Ashara hadn't taken a single bite of the food in front of her. Her chin was rested on her palm as she surveyed their surroundings, and she strummed her long fingers lazily on the table.

"Aren't you hungry?" Kali asked. Alistair said that Grey Wardens were almost _always_ hungry, but Ashara shook her head.

Tamlen looked up from his own plate. "You've barely eaten anything the past few days." He waved a piece of half-eaten mutton in front of her. "Are you sure you're not even a little bit hungry?"

Ashara crinkled her delicate nose, and turned her head away. "Ugh, get that away from me; even the smell of it makes me sick." Tamlen lowered the piece of meat, and Ashara glanced at him. "I have plenty of fresh herbs in my box. I can eat those, if I get hungry."

Zevran poured himself a cup of mead, and took a sip. "I take it that Leliana's friend is not here yet?"

Ashara shook her head. "No, not yet."

Leliana dabbed her lips with a napkin, and frowned thoughtfully. "If the Empress has decided to call back the Chevaliers and Grey Wardens, they will most likely withdraw to Jader. From this village, it will take Gavan at least a few days, if not more, if he is traveling on foot. I suspect he will be here within the week."

Ashara looked at the Sister. "Well, we can't just sit here. You said Orzammar is down that main path, right? Then we need to head there, and convince the dwarves to aid us against the Blight. The sooner we get them to agree, the better."

Leliana smiled. "I can wait here for Gavan, while you secure the dwarven allies."

The Dalish woman frowned. "I'm not sure if it would be a good idea to wait by yourself. We already have a bounty on our heads; if anyone finds out who you're helping, they might try to take you to Loghain. You should at least have someone to stay with you, and help, if something like that happens."

Wynne cleared her throat, and looked up from her plate of food. "I can wait with her, if you like."

Ashara seemed to really like this idea. She and the elderly mage still weren't getting along very well, but Kali suspected that it had something to do with Wynne's need to offer suggestions all the time. Of course, Wynne's suggestions often sounded more like outright demands, and Ashara didn't take too kindly to that. She was fine enough with advice, but she really didn't like being _told_ what to do.

Her violet eyes scanned the table. "Well then, when you are all finished eating, I suppose we'll start the hike towards Orzammar."

Kali looked down at her plate, and grinned. From everything that she'd been told, Orzammar was a giant dwarven village set under the ground. She always thought that dwarves were adorable; they were so little! But she had learned over the years, from the dwarves that visited Denerim, that they got severely offended if someone made a comment about their height. It would be bad if the dwarven king refused to aid the Grey Wardens, because he thought Kali was teasing him.

She'd have to repress the urge to squeal and pat them on the head, but it was going to be difficult.

oOo

Ashara stared like a wide-eyed _da'len_ at the underground city of Orzammar. It had to be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen; the walls themselves glittered like precious gems, and towering golden statues were placed to watch over their people with sparkling eyes. Liquid fire flowed around the city in organized ditches, warming even the walls while it glowed against the bright stone. She couldn't imagine how much time it had taken to create such a city; the whole place seemed to be one giant work of art, made from the earth.

There was a dwarf posted near the entrance to the city, and he watched the group warily. None of the dwarves here seemed eager to assist; most of them scurried around as they went about their day, but they tossed suspicious glances at Ashara and her companions. Well, she certainly couldn't judge them for that. If she were a stranger come to the Dalish, _they_ would have surrounded her with their arrows by now. These dwarves didn't seem to be hostile.

The dwarf posted near the entrance cleared his throat loudly. "Hello strangers. It's not often we see elves in Orzammar." His eyes traveled to Morrigan and Alistair. "Or humans. What brings you here?"

Ashara held out the treaty to him; he took the scroll and unrolled it. "We are Grey Wardens, come to speak with your king."

The dwarf flinched, and handed the scroll back to her. "Orzammar has no king. Endrin Aeducan returned to the stone, not three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his sons." He shook his head regretfully. "The Assembly has been through a dozen votes, without nominating a successor. If this is not resolved soon, we risk a civil war. We are in no position to aid the Grey Wardens."

Beside her, Tamlen rolled his eyes and scoffed loudly. "Please tell me this isn't going to turn into a common occurrence."

Kali peeped around Zevran to look at Tamlen. "What do you mean?"

"That Tower couldn't help us until we cleared it of abominations and demons, and now the _Durgen'len_ can't help us until they have a king." He groaned. "This is getting to be ridiculous. Can't anyone solve their own problems?"

Morrigan chuckled. "Apparently, everyone agrees that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other."

Ashara couldn't help but agree with the two of them, but she really didn't find the situation as amusing as the witch seemed to. All this chaos was like a dam, stopping the natural path of a river. It was maddening! A Blight stood to destroy the world, but no one could think farther than their own problems.

"Alright then, tell us who we need to speak with." She tried to keep the impatience from her voice, but she knew he would hear it. Couldn't anyone see that if the Blight was allowed to press north, their petty squabbles would mean nothing? "The Blight is still a threat."

The dwarf jerked his thumb towards a long walkway, with a large golden door, set at the end. "You want to go to the Diamond Quarter, and speak with the Assembly."

Ashara inclined her head, trying to at least _look_ respectful. "_Ma serannas._"

She led her group towards the large golden doors, glancing around at everything in sight. Up close, the stone walls looked even more amazing; at first she thought they were made of simple rock, but rock didn't shimmer in such a way. Was it lyrium that caused this? The Keeper said that the _Durgen'len_ had ample lyrium near their homes, and were immune to its effects.

Tamlen seemed as hesitant as she was awed. His eyes were huge, as he stared up at the ceiling. "How do they survive here? Wouldn't it be...stifling, to never even see the sunlight?"

Ashara shuddered; this place might be beautiful, but she certainly wouldn't want to live here. She couldn't imagine living in a place without a fresh breeze to caress the skin, or the dazzling sun to warm the heart. "Maybe they're used to it."

He shook his head. "I'll stick to roaming the land, myself."

They walked through the golden doors, and Ashara immediately realized why the dwarves called this area the Diamond Quarter. The whole area was elevated higher than the rest of Orzammar, and if the walls outside had glittered, these were practically sparkling. Tall buildings loomed almost higher than one could see, and all the dwarves walking around were dressed in much better clothing and armor than the ones near the entrance. _This must be where the dwarves of status live._

_But there are no markers, not at all to indicate which building might host the Assembly._

She glanced at Alistair and Morrigan; the two humans might have a better idea of where to go. "Do either of you know which building we're looking for?"

The witch shrugged. "Tch, they all look the same to me. Giant buildings made of cold stone."

Alistair scratched his head. "Not a clue. I suppose it would be too easy to ask for a sign, or anything." He glanced at a female dwarf who stood by her home, glaring at them with unveiled suspicion. "And somehow, I don't think that the local citizens are going to help us."

Ashara glanced at Sten and Zevran. "I don't suppose either of _you_ know, do you?"

Sten made no movement or comment, but Zevran chuckled. "The only knowledge I have of the dwarves is that they enjoy drinking, and frequently fight in the streets."

She looked again at the buildings; at the end of the gilded path was a towering building flanked with golden statues, and decorated with glittering murals. She pointed to it. "Well, that one certainly looks far more decorated than the others. We might as well start there."

But when they entered the giant building, it didn't look like a place where dwarves would gather to discuss and debate important matters. It looked like rooms that she had encountered in the Circle Tower, rooms that Wynne had called "libraries". Books covered every inch of the walls; tall shelves were organized across the spacious floor, creating rows of even more books.

Ashara was almost speechless. _This is amazing!_ She had never seen so many books in one room; nothing at the Circle Tower even compared to this.

Even Morrigan was intrigued. "Imagine the knowledge stored within these shelves." She glided over to a pile of books, and picked one of them up.

Ashara walked over to one of the shelves, and pulled down a random book. She flipped through the pages; she wasn't very good at reading languages other than the ancient _Elvhenan_ tongue, but she knew enough to realize that this book detailed the life of some previous king of Orzammar.

Tamlen came up beside her to look over her shoulder, and she glanced at him. "Look at this. This book, by itself, tells of the life of one of their kings, who lived during the time of Arlathan!" She glanced at the rest of the books. "The _Durgen'len_ must have detailed accounts of every moment of their history." She closed her eyes as a wave of pure envy swept over her. The _Elvhenan_ struggled to record and relearn their precious history, but these dwarves had succeeded where her own people had failed.

An elderly dwarf stepped out from one of the rows, and approached her. "We don't get many strangers here. Welcome to the Shaperate; I am Shaper Czibor. May I help you find anything?"

Ashara scanned the rows upon rows of books. "You record everything in dwarven history?"

Shaper Czibor smiled, at least he _might_ have smiled. It was hard to tell with the horrid white beard that dangled from his chin. "It is a Shaper's job to record our history, family lines, and legacy through the ages." He touched one of the shelves tenderly. "It is a Shaper's job to remember, and record all that we can find."

A strange sadness settled over Ashara. "Your job is similar to that of a Keeper."

Shaper Czibor studied her with renewed interest. "I have heard that word before. It is used for the..._Elve...Elvhenan_, correct?" Ashara nodded. "The elves were always fine allies to our people." He frowned. "It is a shame that we have lost so much contact with the outside world."

Ashara inclined her head. The _Elvhenan_ always spoke of the _Durgen'len_ with the highest of respect. The dwarves were fine warriors, unafraid of death, fiercely loyal to their kin, and steeped in tradition.

She lifted her head, and gestured to the wide selection of books; perhaps, if the dwarves kept such good records, she would find some information on the previous Blights. _Mythal knows we need as much as we can get._ "Do you have records of previous Blights?"

The Shaper eyed her thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

"We are Grey Wardens, and a new Blight is upon the land. We need as much information as we can find, if we are to have any hopes of defeating it."

Czibor nodded. "Yes, we have noticed that the darkspawn are fewer in number in the Deep Roads. Some of our more...optimistic people believe that we have finally pushed them back." He shook his head sadly. "But, history tells us that this is not possible. The only other explanation is that a Blight has occurred, and that the darkspawn have gone topside. We _do_ have many records of the Blights; the first one details the accounts of what happened topside, since our people journeyed to the surface to aid the humans." He shrugged. "After that, the races were at war with one another, and we defended only ourselves."

Ashara nodded; her people had done the same thing after the First Blight. "Anything you have would be of help to us."

"Shouldn't we wait to do this?" Alistair suddenly asked. He shifted, as everyone turned to look at him. "We need to speak with the Assembly, and see if they will aid us against the Blight. We should do that as soon as possible, shouldn't we?"

Ashara hesitated, but he was right. They needed to ensure that the _Durgen'len_ would help them. "Yes...I suppose you're right." She looked at the Shaper. "We will be back."

Czibor nodded. "If you are going to the Assembly, you'll need to speak with Assembly Steward Bandelor. The building is right next to this one."

Ashara sighed; so, they had walked right past it. Well, at least it gave them the chance to find this treasure mine. "_Ma serannas_, Shaper." Dwarven names were impossible to pronounce; she didn't even bother to try. "Well, let's go to the Assembly and hope they're willing to help."

oOo

Ashara sat at a large table with her companions, and glanced around at the drunken and obnoxious dwarves, stumbling over everything in sight. _I don't care if this __**is**__ the best Inn in Orzammar; it's disgusting!_

Morrigan's eyes were narrowed disdainfully; she seemed even less pleased than Ashara to be there. " 'The Nug's Head'? _Why_ name an inn after those disgusting creatures?"

Zevran laughed. "They are dwarves! They _love_ disgusting creatures."

Ashara sighed dramatically, and lightly thumped her forehead against the top of the table. She heard Tamlen laugh. "What's wrong, _vulpasha_?"

_Obviously not your mood._ Zevran had convinced Tamlen that an evening spent at a dwarven inn meant sampling dwarven ale. Already the two of them were flushed, and they kept laughing at the stupidest things.

She lifted her head. "You mean _besides_ this insane task we're supposed to do?" She looked around the table. "How in Mythal's name are _we _supposed to choose the successor? And _how_ are we supposed to find where this Paragon is? She could be _anywhere_ in the Deep Roads!"

Alistair drained his mug, and chuckled. "You didn't know? Grey Wardens are supposed to automatically know _everything_ about the Deep Roads. We're expected to just use our Grey Warden powers, and instantly _know_ where this Paragon is."

Ashara groaned. The Assembly Steward had been a bumbling idiot who claimed over and over that he had no power to help them. Instead, he directed them to speak with the two men fighting over the thrown: Bhelen Aeducan, and Pyral Harrowmont. But it seemed to Ashara, that dwarves didn't know how to pick their leaders very well. Bhelen was an angry little man who used cruel measures to do what he wanted, and Pyral was a cowering idiot afraid of his own shadow.

However, both of them seemed to expect the Grey Wardens to do their own dirty work, and search the Deep Roads for someone named Branka. For whatever reason, this particular dwarven woman, who was given the title of a Paragon, held such high status among the _Durgen'len_, that no one could argue with whatever choice she decided to make.

Ashara tried to argue that Grey Wardens couldn't get involved in such things; Duncan had been very firm on that matter. Grey Wardens rose above politics. But, it hadn't made any bit of difference. She couldn't get her allies until Orzammar had a king, and Orzammar couldn't seem to get a king unless Branka made her choice. It was a damn nightmare.

A very loud, very obnoxious belch directed Ashara's eyes to the end of the table, where a red headed dwarf stood. The whole table grew quiet.

"I hear yer lookin' for Branka."

Ashara raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"If yer plannin' to search the Deep Roads, you need someone who can guide you." He thumped his chest. "_I_ happen to be that dwarf."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why so eager to help us?"

The dwarf belched again; she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I've been lookin' for Branka for two years now! To everyone else she's just a symbol that they can leave in the Deep Roads; _I'm_ the only one who cares about her as a person. So, I'm goin' with ya."

Ashara raised her eyes to the ceiling; the dwarf didn't look like he was going to take "no" for an answer. "I've already got a bunch of armed lunatics following me around; why not add another?"

The dwarf laughed. "Heh! I'll drink to that! My name's Oghren." He sat down at the table, and waved his hand at the woman behind the bar. " 'Nother round!"

Ashara sighed. "Well, before everyone gets too drunk to talk," she glared at Tamlen and Zevran, who continued to laugh and thump their hands against the table, "we should talk about the Deep Roads." Everyone quieted down, even Tamlen and Zevran. "Alistair tells me that the Deep Roads are crawling with darkspawn, so I think we should only take those of us who are Grey Wardens, and Oghren."

Sten crossed his arms. It was hard to tell if he was glaring at Ashara or not; his eyes were almost _always_ narrowed angrily. "No. I do not abandon the field because of danger."

Ashara scowled. "It's not _just _danger, Sten. If darkspawn blood corrupts you, or Zevran, or Morrigan, you'll die. We don't know how to perform the Joining ritual."

"_Asit tal-eb_. I must find my answer for the _Arishok_. If I am to die in the Deep Roads, then it is to be."

Zevran stared at Ashara incredulously. "I have no intentions of staying behind either." He grinned. "You can forbid me, of course, but you know I will follow anyway."

Ashara clicked her tongue impatiently; she really didn't feel like arguing. "Fine. But if either of you die, just know that it's your own damn fault."

Morrigan raised her chin. "I will stay; I will look through the Shaperate and determine what information they have on previous Blights. Now, I shall retire to my room." She stood up, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I have no desire to stay here amongst these annoying dwarves." She glided off to the stairs, where their rooms were waiting for them.

The female dwarf came back with more drinks, and set them on the table. Zevran grabbed one of them, and planted it in front of Kali, who eyed it warily. "A drink for you, my little Warden."

When she hesitated, Oghren thumped her on the back, almost causing the poor girl to fly head first into the table. "Drink up, woman!"

"Fine." She took a reluctant sip of the ale, and her face brightened. "Wow, this is really good!"

Zevran laughed, and clapped Oghren on the back. The two of them gulped down their ale, and Tamlen turned to Ashara. "Do you want one, too?"

She shook her head. "No thanks; I don't like ale." She was afraid that if she drank, it would make her sick. Almost every type of food or drink among the dwarves seemed to make her nauseous.

Over the next few hours, after Sten left to his own room, the rest of her companions, even Alistair and Kali, continued to drink. Tamlen and Zevran wound up on the table, their arms around each other's shoulders while they sang loudly. Ashara had the feeling that they had no clue as to what song they were trying to sing, since they kept slurring their speech and stumbling over their words.

Kali could barely seem to hold her liquor; after only two drinks, her face was flushed red, and she started following Oghren around, patting him on the head while she giggled about how short he was. Oghren didn't seem to find this as funny as she did; he swung around to yell at her, but ended up landing on his behind. This sent Kali into a fresh set of giggles, laughing about how he didn't have that far to fall, since he was so short.

Alistair somehow managed to crawl under the table. Ashara wasn't sure why he thought this was a good idea, but the table suddenly jerked with a loud thump; it scared the crap out of her. Apparently, Alistair tried to sit straight up, and hit his head. Boyish giggles floated up from underneath the table. He finally crawled out, collapsing on the bench while chuckling over something that involved swooping.

Ashara watched them all, and found that she was laughing as hard as they were. They had a dangerous journey to start the next day. It was good for her companions to relax, at least for one night.

Tamlen fell off the table and landed right beside Ashara; unfazed by the fall, he immediately swung his arm around her, and started gushing about how beautiful she was, and how he couldn't _wait_ to get her upstairs. She laughed, and kissed his nose. _I don't think he's going to be able to even __**walk**__ up the stairs, let alone manage anything else._

Zevran climbed off the table, and practically fell on top of Kali, who was laughing so hard that tears poured down her eyes. She tried to support the assassin, but both of them wound up on the ground, giggling hysterically while trying to climb back up. Oghren was lying on his back, sprawled out in the middle of the floor, but somehow managed to pick his head up enough to shout for more drinks.

_Bunch of idiots, all of them._ Tamlen started whispering things in her ear, things his mother would have been scandalized to hear, and her face colored. Alistair was struggling to pull off his metal armor, exclaiming about how hot it was. Somehow, he managed to get his head stuck. _But, I suppose they're __**my**__ idiots._

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<br>Asit tal-eb - "The way things are meant to be." It is derived from a driving principle of the Qunari philosophy: "It is to be."  
>Arishok - leader of the army<br>da'len - child/children  
>ma serannas - thank you<br>Elvhenan - word for the Dalish  
>Durgen'len - lit: Children of the Stone; a word used for the dwarves<br>vulpasha - nickname Tamlen has for Ashara; she won't tell anyone what it means_

_Dwarven ale does seem to make people do the silliest things, doesn't it? Almost everyone who visits Orzammar has to get drunk at least one night, and they always wind up acting ridiculous. I'm looking at you Shakespira, and that song Teagan and Fergus started singing. _

__Kali should've known, from the moment Zevran handed her the mug, that she would wind up drunk. But at least she finally got to tell a dwarf how short he is. She has the weirdest fascination with short people. I have no idea where she gets it from._ Also, please forgive Ashara for keeping what Tamlen whispered to herself. She's not exactly what one would call "pure", but whatever he said was enough to make even her blush._

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, requesting alerts, or lurking! ~Seika  
><em>


	20. Shadows on our Eyes

_Many, many thanks and hugs to the amazing Kira Tamarion, for her help, inspiration, and awesome beta skills. The Kira who shows up in this chapter is named after her, as a way to say thank you for all that she has done for me :]_

* * *

><p><strong>Shadows on our Eyes<strong>

"You know, I never would have thought that I'd be grateful for the cold," Kali said. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her torso, and smiled up at the clear blue sky. "But, after spending so much time in the Deep Roads, I think I'd _much_ rather be out here."

Zevran chuckled. "You are glad to be away from those giant spiders, yes?"

Kali scowled at the assassin, of course that only made him laugh even harder. _Maker's breath, I'm never going to hear the end of this._

Four days of slinking around in the Deep Roads, fighting their way through swarms of darkspawn, and a horrific broodmother, yet all anyone was going to remember, was the spiders.

But no one had bothered to tell her about them. With all the swarms of darkspawn, she hadn't even _considered_ the possibility that there would be giant, demonic spiders that looked as if they were sent from the Void itself. Kali shuddered at the thought of them.

Of course, the first giant spider that they encountered had nearly dropped down right on top of her. Brave soul that she was; her immediate response had been to scream like a little girl, and scramble away to hide behind Sten. The Qunari hadn't exactly been pleased to be a living shield, but there wasn't much he could do about it; Kali had frantically clung to him until he finally relented and stood silently while everyone else killed the giant spiders.

But no one was _ever_ going to let her live that down. Ashara and Tamlen had tried to keep straight faces, and Alistair attempted to be sympathetic, but she could tell that they were all fighting back laughter. As for Zevran, well, he didn't even _attempt_ to hide his amusement.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. _At least it's done now. I don't ever have to go back there._

It was a long, exhausting journey, but they had managed to choose the next King of Orzammar, and secure their dwarven allies. Kali didn't really think that Bhelen deserved to be a king, he seemed a bit cruel to her, but Ashara had argued that of the two candidates for the throne, at least he understood the true danger of the Blight. The Dalish woman didn't seem to think that Harrowmont had it in him to unify a group of warriors. Oghren had agreed with the choice, and Kali figured that he would know better than they would.

The eight of them walked down the path that led back to Wenham Village, where Leliana and Wynne were waiting for them, and Kali studied the back of the dwarf's head. After Bhelen agreed to honor the treaty, and send his men to aid against the Blight, Oghren had followed them out of Orzammar, offering to join them during their fight against the Archdemon. It seemed strange to Kali. She would have thought that he would be angry with them; they _did_ kill his wife, after all.

But maybe he realized that there really hadn't been any other choice. The Anvil of the Void was an evil creation; Branka should never have tried to revive it. Even Ashara, who accepted almost anything, as long as it got her job done, had been horrified to hear how the Anvil created golems. She was disgusted by Branka's behavior, and Kali couldn't disagree. The woman had gone insane; she had _willingly_ sacrificed her entire household, including her lover, Hespith, in her pursuit of the Anvil. Maybe Oghren realized how obsessed she had become.

Either way, Kali was just grateful to be done with all of it.

She heard snatches of laughter, and saw Ashara fluttering ahead of everyone with her arms spread, and her head tipped back, to bask in the wintery sun; her white skin seemed to glow under the vibrant light. She seemed even more excited than Kali was to be outside again; if the frigid air troubled her, she didn't show it.

It was one of the few times she had ever seen Ashara laugh so freely, and she was surprised at how sweet the sound was. Ashara had a musical laugh that seemed to float on the air; it made Kali want to join in.

"So," Alistair suddenly said, "what are we going to do if Gavan isn't back from Jader yet?"

Ashara lowered her arms and glanced back at him, her dance with the sun over. "We'll have to wait for him; it's important to see if the other Grey Wardens will help us." The carefree girl of a moment ago was suddenly gone, replaced with the controlled woman who had a job to do.

Morrigan chuckled. "Am I truly the only one who sees the irony of this?"

Alistair looked at the witch. "What do you mean? What irony?"

"There is a Blight upon the land, and Grey Wardens are sworn to defend against it. Yet you must wait for your fellow Wardens, and _hope_ that they will come to your aid." The witch smiled mockingly. "It seems to me, that they are content to abandon Ferelden, which goes against the very code they claim to uphold."

Ashara clicked her tongue impatiently. "You're right; I have no idea what they're thinking."

Alistair scowled at the Dalish woman. "_You're_ doubting the Grey Wardens now, too?"

"Of course; can you give me a reason why I shouldn't? Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais were coming to our aid, but where are they?" Ashara's arms swept out around her. "Do you see our fellow Wardens trying to help us stop this Blight?"

"You can't blame them for that!" Alistair's face was starting to grow red. "If Loghain has shut down the border then they won't be able to get through. You can hardly expect them to fight against Loghain's men, and risk the wardens being exiled from Ferelden, again."

"_Ma'soren_! That's _exactly_ what I expect." Ashara's violet eyes glinted harshly. "It shouldn't matter _at all_ that Loghain shut the border down. They _should_ be doing everything they can to help us fight this Blight, whether they risk exile or not. But instead, we have to find and pay a messenger to chase them all around Orlais and _beg_ them for the help they _should_ have offered willingly!"

Morrigan nodded. "Truly, it seems that the Grey Warden code of 'ending the Blight by whatever means necessary' is open to interpretation." She shook her head. "Such fools. Do they not realize that if the Blight spreads, 'twill only grow stronger?"

Alistair glared at the two women, and without another word, spun on his heel and stomped towards the inn. Kali felt a bit bad for him; she knew that he liked to think that the Grey Wardens were still the fabled heroes from legend. He wanted to believe that if not for Loghain's betrayal, and his orders to shut down the border, the Wardens would be helping them even now.

But even he had to see that what Ashara said made sense. Duncan told them all that the Grey Wardens recruited anyone, thief, murderer, prince, or noble. It didn't matter what their past was; if they had a skill that could be used to combat the Blight, they were considered worthy enough to join the Grey Wardens. Surely, if the Wardens recruited people with such colorful pasts, there should be _someone_ among them who would know how to sneak past Loghain's men at the border?

Surely Alistair had to see that. The Grey Wardens weren't golden heroes of legends who dispelled the Blights with a wave of their hands. They were a group of people struggling against an evil force, and sometimes they had to get their hands dirty. Alistair didn't want to think that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had turned their backs on Ferelden, but maybe they had done just that.

_If so, Andraste guide us. I don't think we can do this on our own._

oOo

Leliana's rooms at the inn were bright and warm, and Kali let out a huge sigh of relief. There were comfortable couches and chairs set around the room, and a large fire crackled in the fireplace, sending waves of heat across the room. Kali wanted nothing more than to just collapse on the one of the couches, and sleep for days, but she'd have to wait just a little bit longer.

There were two strangers sitting on one of the couches against the wall; a dwarf, and a human.

Leliana stood up and gestured to the table. "I had some spiced ale brought up; the evening meal is still a few hours away."

Everyone settled themselves around the chairs and couches, and the moment Kali sat down in her chair, Drake padded out from the next room and promptly attacked her with sniffs and licks to her face. She giggled; he had clearly been worried about her.

It took a while to get him to settle down, but once he relaxed and curled up by her chair, she took a sip of her spiced ale. It was absolutely delicious, and warmed her insides. She closed her eyes for one brief moment of contentment, before studying the two strangers.

The dwarf's long black hair and beard were twisted into clusters of braids, and a giant axe rested next to him on the couch. His dark eyes were like chips of coal; he looked like a man that had seen much, and had learned to harden himself. In sharp contrast, the woman looked sweet and open. Her long, thick hair was the color of dark copper, and her deep blue eyes looked very kind.

Leliana took a sip of her ale. "Did the dwarves agree to aid us?"

Ashara nodded, never taking her eyes off the two strangers. "Yes. Their new king, Bhelen, will send a group of his men to the surface once we can secure a large enough spot for them to gather."

Alistair shifted. "If we go to Redcliffe, I'm sure that Arl Eamon will let us send our army to his castle; it's large enough for all of the men, and will give them enough space to train and prepare."

Leliana smiled. "Well, before we move this discussion further along, allow me to introduce your fellow Grey Wardens." She gestured to the dwarf. "This is Aric."

Aric grunted, and shifted his axe. "Aye."

The pretty female inclined her head and smiled sweetly at them. "I am Kira Thaon. It is a pleasure to meet all of you."

Ashara crossed her arms, and studied the two Wardens with a slight frown. "Are there more of you coming?"

Kira lowered her eyes. "I am afraid not. We crossed the border with our brother, Riordan, but he went ahead to Denerim, to secure the Grey Warden vault. Your friend Gavan agreed to help him, while Aric and I met with you."

Kali could see that Ashara was struggling to hold in her impatience. She closed her violet eyes, and inhaled deeply. "So the Grey Wardens of Orlais sent only three of you, to help us fight the Blight?"

Aric grunted again. "Bunch of nug lickers, all of 'em."

"Hush, Aric," Kira reprimanded lightly. "They are our brothers and sisters." She looked at Ashara. "I understand your frustration, and I am sorry that we can not do more to help you. But when we were turned away at the border, our Commander ordered us to fall back to Jader, and prepare to protect Orlais. The general opinion was that if Ferelden would not branch out and ask for aid, we should leave them to their own folly."

"They're willing to just let Ferelden be destroyed?" Alistair gasped. "Duncan said...we were told that Grey Wardens did whatever they had to, to end the Blight. Why would they just abandon us?"

Aric thumped his fist into his knee. "They're too caught up in the Empress' politics to behave like Grey Wardens are supposed to."

Kira hesitated. "It was assumed that with Ferelden caught up in this civil war, we would be wasting valuable time and resources trying to fight our way here, when we would do better to protect our own country."

"But your Commander allowed _you_ to cross the border?" Tamlen asked.

Kira smiled slyly. "Not exactly. We were not authorized to leave, but when Gavan delivered his message, Aric and I knew that we had to come and help. We could not abandon you, our brothers and sisters, and Riordan agreed to cross the border with us."

For the first time, Ashara smiled. "Well, I suppose two of you are better than no help." She hesitated. "Actually, we're grateful for any help at all."

"Oh now, I'm not sure about that." Kira smiled. "Leliana tells us that you are gathering allies to fight the Blight, uniting dwarves, mages, and even elves. From what we hear, you are doing rather well."

Tamlen shifted in his chair. "We do have promises of support from the mages of the Circle Tower, and the _Durgen'len_, but what about the horde? Once we have our army, how do we track the darkspawn? How do we know where the Archdemon will appear?"

"The Archdemon won't show itself until most of the darkspawn have come topside," Aric said.

Kira nodded. "From what our records tell us, there is a gap of a few months, to a year, from the time the darkspawn begin showing up on the surface, to the time when the Archdemon appears." She spread her hands. "But each Blight is different. The Archdemon could show tomorrow, or it could still be hidden by the time the army gathers."

Ashara frowned. "If it's still hidden, what do we do then?"

Aric grinned. "We send the army against the darkspawn. Once we kill enough of it's minions, the Archdemon will show itself."

Tamlen nodded. "So we lure it out, by killing the darkspawn." He looked at Ashara. "In that case, it might actually be better if the Archdemon stays hidden while we gather our allies. Then, we can choose when and where to start the attack."

Wynne cleared her throat. "There's still the matter of the civil war. We'll need to deal with Loghain, before we can turn our army against the Blight."

Ashara nodded. "Then for now, we'll go to Redcliffe and speak with this Arl Eamon. He can help us decide what to do against Loghain, and we can start sending our army to his castle." She looked around. "We should all get some sleep. Tomorrow we set out for Redcliffe."

Everyone got up and walked to their various rooms, and Kali led Drake back to hers. She wasn't sharing a room with anyone, so her fire was much smaller than Leliana's was, but it was still warm. She curled up on the couch next to Drake. She was so comfortable and warm, that she started to doze off, when a knock on her door jolted her awake.

"Come in."

Zevran walked in, carrying a mug and two cups. "I thought you might like some more to drink, little Warden."

She smiled. "Why did you think that?"

"Once we leave this inn, we will be sleeping on the rough ground again." He sighed dramatically. "No more soft beds, or warm cups of ale. We might as well enjoy it while it lasts."

Kali laughed, and took the cup he offered. She scooted over on the couch to make room for him. "You wouldn't make a good Dalish elf, would you?"

"Not at all! I consider myself something more like a city elf." He grinned. "But, I suppose I would get used to it, if I tried. My mother was Dalish, after all."

"Really? I didn't know that! Were you born among them?"

"Oh no; she fell in love with an elven woodcutter, and followed him into the city."

There was something about his tone of voice that made Kali hesitate. "May I ask what happened to them?"

He shrugged. "My father died of some disease, and my mother was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts. The oldest tale in the books."

"Zevran, that's horrible!"

He looked at her curiously. "Is it? It seemed a normal enough tale growing up in the whorehouse."

Kali looked at the fire. "I...I know many women who were forced to do such things to survive, but that doesn't mean that it's right. It's still a horrible thing." She lowered her eyes. "I...I'm sorry that you had to grow up with that knowledge."

Zevran smiled. "Ah, beauty and compassion both from the same woman. It is a delight, truly, though what you say is unnecessary even if it is appreciated." He sighed. "But enough of such talk. It is the future that is important, yes?"

Kali couldn't help but smile. "You sound like Ashara. She always says that the past can't be changed, that instead we should learn from it, and look towards the future."

"A wise lesson to learn, my little Warden."

The two of them sat up late into the night, sharing stories and exchanging laughs. Kali learned that she liked the sound of his voice when he laughed, and for some reason was starting to find it strangely hard to look away from the way his hazel eyes glowed in the firelight.

oOo

The common room of the inn was darkened and quiet; all of her companions had gone to sleep, preparing for the long journey that must be started the next day. Ashara looked around the bar area; aside from the maid cleaning some of the tables, there was a woman writing something in the corner. But her head was down; she didn't seem to be paying attention to anything going on around her.

Ashara walked over to the table where Morrigan was waiting, and sat down. She laced her fingers together. "So, what did you learn in the Shaperate?"

The witch smiled. "I discovered that a Blight has never been ended in less than ten years. It is slow to move, and slow to destroy, but a land that becomes tainted by it will never recover."

Ashara thought about the words for a moment, and nodded. "Well, I don't know about you, but I have no intention of letting this Blight last so long." She shrugged. "I doubt we'd even manage to survive past the first year."

"But it _does_ mean that we may have an advantage. If we move quickly, and gather our allies, we have a greater chance to draw out the Archdemon, and end this Blight before it truly begins."

"True." Ashara glanced around; the maid had moved to scrubbing down the bar, and the woman in the corner was still huddled over her writing. She didn't want anyone listening to this discussion; no one needed to hear Grey Warden secrets. "You could have told me this in your room, you know. Why did you wish to speak with me down here?"

Morrigan sat up a bit straighter in her seat. "There is...another matter, that I wished to speak with you about, and I did not want anyone else to hear."

"Oh?" Ashara was intrigued. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You know that I have been studying Mother's grimoire, and I...have learned, in great detail, how it is that she extends her life."

Ashara frowned. The Dalish told many stories of _Asha'belannar, _and they all contained different speculation as to how it was she managed to survive for so many years. Some said that she had a spell of immortality, while others claimed that the demon that possessed her kept her alive. Ashara would be lying if she said she wasn't curious about it. "So, how does she do it?"

Morrigan lifted her chin. "I have heard stories of the many witches of the Wilds, yet I have never met one. I always thought it was strange, but Mother refused to answer any of my questions. And now I know why." She paused for the briefest of seconds. "They are all Flemeth."

Ashara hesitated, trying to figure out what it was that Morrigan was saying. "So, _Asha'belannar_ raises a daughter, and then possesses her to continue her life? Is that what you mean?"

"_That_ is exactly what I mean."

Something about this didn't make sense to Ashara; in all the stories that were told about _Asha'belannar_, she'd never heard of one that involved the old woman possessing her own daughters. "Is that why she kept you secluded away in the Wilds? Does she raise a witch in the hopes of cultivating your powers into something that she can use, then?"

"I can only assume so, yes." Morrigan sighed heavily, and looked around the darkened room.

"But _Asha'belannar_ isn't stupid. If she wants to possess you, why would she risk sending you with us? She knows that we plan to fight the Blight; you could easily die on this journey."

The witch scowled, but it wasn't Ashara that she was angry at. "I...do not know. Perhaps it is as she says; the Blight threatens her as much as anyone."

Ashara shook her head. _Asha'belannar_ had lived through many Blights; she had always found ways to protect herself. "There must be another reason."

"Perhaps she thinks this journey will make me stronger. According to her grimoire if the...host is a strong mage, it takes less time for her to...settle in."

Ashara studied the witch carefully. "So, what do you plan to do about this?"

Morrigan lifted her chin defiantly. "There can only be one response to this. Flemeth needs to die. I will not sit about like an empty sack, waiting to be filled. You must kill her."

"Me? Why me?"

"_I_ can not do it; if she is killed while I am around, she might be able to possess me right there. So who else is there?"

Ashara hesitated; there was something about this that she didn't like. There was a shadow in Morrigan's yellow eyes; she wasn't being honest. If there was one thing Ashara was good at, it was spotting lies. Very few people could lie to a Keeper. "You're not telling me everything, are you?"

Morrigan was silent for a moment; Ashara could see that she wanted to lie, but then thought better of it. "No, I am not." The witch sighed heavily. "But you must trust me; this is as much for my benefit, as it is for yours. I can say no more than this; slaying Flemeth will protect us both."

_Should I trust her? _Ashara's mind was racing. _Morrigan will always look to protect herself above all others; does she just want someone to do her dirty work? But, aside from this moment here, she has never outright lied to me; she may not always tell me the whole truth, but she usually does not lie. Her spells and knowledge have been very useful to us; perhaps it is time to repay her for her help._

After a time, Ashara nodded slowly. "Fine. I will trust you, for now." She narrowed her eyes. "But soon, you will have to tell me _everything_. Agreed?"

"I will tell you when the time is right. But I _will _tell you."

_Fair enough_. Ashara stood up. "We will seek Flemeth out after we reach Redcliffe. Now, I'm going to get some sleep; you should do the same."

She walked up the stairs, and towards the room she shared with Tamlen. When she opened the door, she saw him sitting against the window, watching the falling snow.

He turned. "How did your talk with Morrigan go?"

"She told me that a Blight has never been stopped in less than ten years, so we may have an advantage over it, if we stick with this plan to lure out the Archdemon. But then she made an...unexpected request." Tamlen raised an eyebrow. "She's been reading her mother's grimoire, the one I found in the Circle Tower, remember? Well, she claims that _Asha'belannar_ wants to possess her, and asked that we kill her."

Tamlen watched her closely. "What did you say?"

"I agreed to help her." She frowned thoughtfully. "Morrigan is clever, and manipulative, and she wasn't being completely honest with me, but I believe that whatever motivates her to do this, she has good reasons. I'm willing to trust her, for now."

Tamlen stood up from his seat, and let out a low whistle. "You know, the _hahren_ always said that you would get yourself into trouble, if you weren't careful. They didn't know the half of it, did they?" He ran a hand through his dark gold hair, and looked at her with concern. "Are you sure this is wise, _vulpasha_? _Asha'belannar_ is a powerful mage."

She shrugged. "No, but I think Morrigan has good reasons. She claims that killing _Asha'belannar_ will keep me safe, as well as her." She looked away. "And I...I have good reasons for wanting to protect myself."

Tamlen watched her curiously. "What are you talking about?"

Ashara closed her eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath. _It's now or never_. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now. I...am with child."

oOo

Flemeth stood near the large fire outside her hut, and scanned the contents of the letter in her hands. The more she read, the more she smiled. "So that is your game, lovely Morrigan. How clever of you."

She tossed the letter into the fire, and watched the paper curl and turn black. Her children had done well; she was pleased at their quick work. From Wenham Village to her hut, in barely a few hours. But now, she could be prepared.

Ashara would lead her group of fools into the maze of the Wilds, all to kill an old woman and save a friend, because she believed the lies. _Bah! As if I would use such a crude method of survival._

Well, no matter. Morrigan had made the first move, and she would find that one step led to another. But old Flemeth knew the steps to this dance better than clever Morrigan ever would. She unclasped an amulet from around her neck, and held it up to the fire. It would do nicely.

All she needed was a piece, a small piece, and a trusting fool to smuggle it away from the country, someone who would keep their word, without asking too many questions. With the Blight ravaging the country, it should be easy enough to find a pawn.

Flemeth looked into the fire. "Destiny, Ashara. You chose wrong, and now this dance must end in your death." The flames grew larger, reaching towards the blackened sky. Flemeth could see the Dalish girl's face swimming in the flames. "But not yet. No, not yet. When your purpose is done, your blood will fuel the next rebellion." Flemeth smiled.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Ma'soren - you're an idiot; soren is a bit more of an insulting word, so technically it would be closer to 'you're a dumbass'.<br>Durgen'len - literally: Children of the Stone; dwarves  
>Asha'belannar - literally: Woman of Many Years; a title the Dalish give to Flemeth<br>hahren - elder/elders; sign of respect among the Dalish  
>vulpasha - nickname Tamlen gives to Ashara; the meaning is known by few<em>

_Thanks to everyone reviewing, requesting alerts, or reading. It really means a lot!_


	21. Sensitive to Fate

_As always, I am greatly indebted to the amazing **Kira Tamarion**, for her wonderful advice, suggestions, and beta skills. _

* * *

><p><strong>Sensitive to Fate<strong>

Kali and Zevran sat on the small couch in her room at the inn, sipping their spiced ale, and talking. It was very late, and they had a long day ahead of them, but she didn't care. She enjoyed talking to Zevran; he had traveled all over, and had dozens of stories to share. From dressing up like a woman to blackmail a nobleman's favorite son, to sneaking into a palace, just to prove that he could. Zevran had lived through hundreds of adventures.

Her favorite, so far, had to be the one where he tried to kill an Antivan princess.

"I managed to kill about eleven of her guards, before I was knocked out of a window. I landed in the river and nearly drowned, but some urchins fished me out and robbed me blind. They even made off with my boots!"

Kali wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, picturing a naked Zevran running through the streets of Antiva. She knew that he had lived a life that would have broken most men; he had been raised in a whorehouse, and sold to the Crows, who put him through cruel and torturous training to hone his talents as an assassin. But, Zevran never liked to dwell on such thoughts. Instead, he liked to spin his stories in such a way that made them both laugh. "I'm sure that the poor women who saw you, are never going to forget it!"

Zevran laughed with her. "You should have seen the Guild Master's face!"

After their laughter died down, the two of them settled into a comfortable silence. Kali was about to ask him another question, when she heard a loud thump, and what sounded like a shout.

Instantly, they were both on their feet. Kali strained her ears, listening for another noise. Were they under attack again? There it was, another shout, followed by a crash. She saw the wall shake, and realized that the noises were coming from the room Ashara shared with Tamlen.

She sprinted out of her room, with Zevran and Drake running behind her. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she kicked the door open and practically fell into Ashara's room. She tried to catch her footing, but Zevran accidentally crashed into her, knocking both of them to the ground.

She lay on the floor in a slight daze, and looked up to see Tamlen and Ashara, with their arms around one another, staring down at her.

"Are you alright?" Ashara asked. She reached down and helped Kali to her feet; Zevran jumped back up, looking as confused as Kali was.

"W...what's going on?" Kali asked. "We heard loud noises; we thought you were under attack."

But Ashara wasn't paying attention. She was eying Zevran suspiciously. "What were you doing together, so late at night?" The hint of a warning was in her dulcet voice.

Zevran held up his hands. "Nothing at all, my angry Warden. We were just talking."

Kali shook her head, and pushed her blonde bangs away from her face. "What were you two shouting about? You scared us!"

Ashara relaxed, and passed Tamlen a hidden smile. He beamed back at her; Kali had never seen him smile so much. Ashara's hands fluttered to her stomach, as she looked at Kali and Zevran. "I am with child."

There was a moment of stunned silence. _Did she just say...?_ Kali suddenly laughed and flung her arms around the Dalish woman's thin shoulders. "Oh Ashara! That's wonderful!"

Drake barked happily, and Zevran clapped Tamlen on the shoulder. "You are going to be a father? That is marvelous, my friend!"

Ashara giggled, she actually giggled like a girl, and let Kali embrace her. Kali stepped back to look at her, and for the first time noticed the curve of her belly. _How did I miss that?_ "How many months?"

"Three."

Tamlen's laughter slowly died, and he gave her a curious look. "How long have you known?"

Ashara lowered her eyes. "I knew after the first month."

"_What_?" Tamlen pulled her away from Kali with a scowl. "Why did you wait so long to tell me?" He dropped his head and lowered his voice, but Kali could still hear him. "You mean you knew, even that night by the river when we had that fight?"

Ashara lifted her chin, a gesture that Kali recognized well. It meant she was feeling defiant, that she wouldn't apologize. "Yes, I did. But I wasn't going to tell you until I was positive. I wanted to make sure that I didn't lose the child, that it was strong enough to grow, despite the taint."

Tamlen shook his head. "But...how did I not notice something like this? We lie together every night." He ran a hand over the curve of her stomach, and started eying her suspiciously. "How did you hide it?"

Kali was wondering the same thing. Ashara's clothing was made of thin material, and she had a very slim frame. The slight bulge of her stomach should have been obvious to them all. Now that Kali could see it, she couldn't figure out how she hadn't noticed it before.

Ashara looked shifty. "Well, it's been so cold lately; I've had my cloak wrapped around me, and it's...easy to distract everyone from noticing my stomach." She shrugged. "Especially since none of you would have even thought to look for such a thing."

"So, you used a spell on us?" Kali asked. The thought made her nervous; if they were all under a spell, and didn't even know it, what else could Ashara do to them?

"No, I didn't cast a spell on any of you. I cloaked _myself_ in magic, to keep attention from lingering on me."

Zevran chuckled, from his spot by the fireplace. "Such a masterpiece; hiding something in plain sight!"

Tamlen looked as though he wanted to be angry, but his face relaxed, and he grabbed Ashara into a tight hug. "A child, _vulpasha_."

After a time, Tamlen lifted his head and smiled down at her. "Well, I'm sure that we can handle the treaties on our own, while you wait at camp. We'll have to find a spot that can hide you, but I don't think that that will be too much trouble."

Ashara scowled, and pulled away from his grasp. "Excuse me?"

"You're going to want to stay with Bodahn and Sandal, aren't you? I mean, you can hardly keep fighting with us now."

She drew herself up to her full height. Kali and Zevran exchanged a glance, and slowly backed away towards the fire; it was clear that a storm was about to break over their heads.

"I will do no such thing! _I'm_ the one who leads this group; I'm not going to sit at the fire like a sickly _hahren_ while the rest of you do _my_ job!"

Tamlen's frown deepened; Kali could see the swirling tattoo on his forehead twitching angrily. "But you can't fight! Women of the Clan _always_ stay at camp when they're with child!"

"In case you haven't noticed, we're not with the Clan."

"You risk the life of our child! What if an enemy manages to hit you in your stomach?"

"I'm not stupid, you know." Ashara's violet eyes were as hard as gems. "I know how to keep myself, and the baby, protected."

"And what happens when you get bigger?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "I'll deal with it then."

Kali bit her bottom lip and hesitantly stepped forward. Ashara's anger could be a frightening thing, especially now that the effect of hormones were added to her already volatile temper, but she had to say something. "Um, Ashara, Tamlen _does_ have a point, you know. It's too dangerous for you to be putting yourself at risk."

The Dalish woman crossed her arms and defiantly tossed back her long black hair. "If that old woman from the Circle can drag herself around the country and help us fight, so can I. Pregnancy doesn't mean that I'm suddenly crippled."

Tamlen scowled at her. "So, you're willing to risk our child?"

"I'm not risking _anything_. I'll have you know that I _can_ cast protective shields around myself." She jabbed a finger at Kali, though she continued to glare at Tamlen. "How do you think I kept _her_ safe after she broke her arm? Besides, if that _does_ happen to fail, I can use Dalish spells."

"How does Dalish magic protect you?" Kali asked. The only Dalish spell she had ever seen was when Ashara spoke with that tree in the Wilds. So far, she had kept the rest of her magic a secret; she said that she couldn't use it around humans.

Ashara lifted her chin haughtily. "Keepers are able to communicate with nature. I can call on the roots of ancient trees to surround me like a protective cage, and if I am surrounded, I can gather the earth around me, and use it to travel to another area." She shrugged. "That last one takes a lot of my energy, but it shouldn't be too much trouble."

Tamlen continued to frown, and Ashara smiled up at him, her foul mood suddenly disappearing. "Don't worry, _emma'lath_. I wouldn't risk this child for anything, I swear. I know what I'm doing."

Tamlen's voice brooked no argument. "At the very least, you'll have to wear something that offers better protection."

"Fine. I can do that."

Tamlen relaxed a bit, but Kali didn't feel as reassured. There was something about the hard look in Ashara's eyes that made Kali think of a little girl singing loudly in the dark, to convince herself that she wasn't afraid.

oOo

The next day was crisp and bright, and perfect for travel. Ashara demanded that they all set out early, so it had taken longer for everyone to become awake and alert. Once on the road, Alistair walked at the back of the group, keeping a watchful eye behind them, ensuring that no one could sneak up on them.

Normally he didn't like being isolated to the back; it brought up too many memories of his childhood, memories that he would rather not think about. But today, he was grateful for the silence.

He was getting tired of hearing about Ashara's pregnancy. It was all anyone could talk about, since Kali had rushed down the stairs that morning to share the good news. The rest of them had sat in stunned silence, while the little rogue bubbled with enthusiasm, as happy as if _she _was the one who was pregnant.

Kali wasn't exactly good at keeping secrets.

It wasn't that he was unhappy with Ashara's pregnancy or anything; her permanent scowl actually smoothed into a smile, and Tamlen's own pride was practically tangible. It was impossible to begrudge them their happiness, and he had even offered up his own congratulations to the two of them.

But all this talk about pregnancy and babies, mostly from Wynne and Leliana, made him reluctantly think of his mother and father. His mother died during his birth, and his father had never even acknowledged his existence.

The worst part about it, from Alistair's point of view, was that he didn't know how it had happened. When he was a boy, he would spend countless sleepless nights in the Chantry envisioning an impossible love. He used to imagine that his father had fallen in love with his mother, and in a moment of breathless passion, they managed to share at least one night together. But he knew, more than likely, it was just the random affair between an indiscreet man, and a servant who jumped at the chance to lay with a king.

He let out a heavy sigh. _There's no point thinking about it. No one is alive to tell me what really happened. Well, maybe Loghain could. But somehow, I don't really think that he would be eager to have a heart to heart talk with me, about King Maric_.

"Um, excuse me. Am I interrupting something?"

Alistair snapped out of his thoughts and saw Kira walking next to him, a sweet smile on her face. He hadn't even heard her approach. Instantly, he looked ahead, to Ashara, who was walking in the front of the group. If she'd noticed that he wasn't paying attention, she'd start cursing and hitting him with that staff of hers. Thankfully, though, she was talking cheerfully to Kali, and hadn't noticed anything.

He looked back at Kira. "Oh no, you're not interrupting anything. I was just thinking. Did you need something?"

Kira smiled. "No, not really." She inclined her head towards Bodahn's cart, where Wynne was sitting. She and Aric had brought two horses with them, when they crossed the border into Orlais. That meant that Bodahn could buy a cart to hold not only his stock, but also all of their belongings; no one had to carry their heavy packs anymore. It also relived Wynne from the constant walking. "Your friend Wynne, seemed to think that you needed some company, and asked if I would come back here."

Alistair looked at the Circle mage, who was holding onto the reins of the horse, and talking with Leliana. _I wonder why she would think that_. "Well, you don't have to stay back here, if you don't want to. I'm afraid it's very boring. Most people who want to attack us seem to set-up traps, and hide in the trees. They don't really sneak up from behind."

Kira giggled; it was such a girlish sound, that Alistair found himself grinning. "So I've heard; Leliana told me all about how Zevran tried to assassinate you."

Alistair grimaced. He and the assassin still butted heads; he didn't really care for Zevran's constant sarcasm, and his mocking advice. It was like having a male version of Morrigan. _Just what I need._ "Yes, well, I still don't understand why Ashara let him join us." He frowned. "So far he's kept his word, to serve her, but she didn't know that when she agreed to bring him along. He _did_ try to kill us, after all."

Kira nodded thoughtfully. "The Grey Wardens don't turn anyone away, Alistair. Our pasts do not matter; if someone truly wants to help us fight the Blight, they are more than welcome to join us."

Alistair couldn't help but notice how the bright winter sun brought out the deep red hues in Kira's hair; he coughed, nervously, and looked away, eager for a distraction. "So, how did the Grey Wardens find you?"

She grinned. "I was recruited by Mikhail, our Warden-Commander."

"Did the Wardens conscript you?"

Kira seemed to find the question funny. "Oh no! In Orlais, the Wardens rarely need to use conscription; most noble families are thrilled to have their second daughters or sons join such an elite order."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Of course. It brings status to the family."

Alistair found that a strange thought; the Wardens were supposed to keep away from politics. "So, your family wanted you to join the Wardens for status?"

"Not exactly; my family is already very well known in Orlais. We are advisers and distant cousins to Empress Celene. My brother is one of her Chevaliers, and my two sisters are married into powerful noble families. But when I was recruited, my mother saw it as the perfect solution." She grinned at him like a naughty child. "You see, I don't share my sisters' love of fine clothing, or beautiful hairstyles. I spent my time outside, training with a sword and shield; it was quite the source of frustration for my parents. They had no idea _how_ they were going to arrange a suitable match for me."

Alistair laughed. "Really? Then you must have been grateful to become a Grey Warden."

"Oh yes!" Her dark blue eyes lit up. "When I was a little girl, I was at court when they came to Val Royeaux. They looked so majestic, like heroes out of a fairy tale!" She chuckled. "I've learned that the life of a Grey Warden is not so glamorous as I thought, but I am still proud to be one."

Alistair nodded; it was a thought that he understood well. To him, the Grey Wardens were a place of salvation, the first group that made him feel at home. _My fellow Wardens became my brothers; they were the only family I've ever known. Now they're all gone..._

Kira watched him closely, and lowered her voice. It was almost as if she could tell what he was thinking. "We heard about what happened at Ostagar. The Grey Wardens were good men, and the loss of Duncan was a loss to our _entire_ order. I'm so sorry for what happened."

Alistair stared at her. "You knew Duncan?"

"I did." She looked wistful. "I didn't get to see him as often as I would have liked, since he was often away from our outpost in Montsimmard. Then he left to help build our numbers in Ferelden, but I have known him for years."

He winced; the memory of Duncan was still painful for him. "Duncan conscripted me from the Chantry, where I was training to be a templar. He's the one who brought me into the Wardens, and gave me a chance at a better life."

"Oh? Why did Duncan recruit you?"

"He thought that my templar training would be useful against darkspawn magic. Well, that's what he _said_, anyway. But I know the truth is that he saw how unhappy I was. He was the first person to listen to what _I_ wanted."

"I...can see that. He was a good man." Kira hesitated for a moment, and looked at him curiously. "Did Duncan ever mention a woman named Fiona?"

"No, why? Who is she?"

"Oh, no one special." She smiled. "She was a good friend of Duncan's, and you just remind me of her." She nodded her head towards Ashara. "So, tell me about this leader of yours. She is Dalish, yes?"

Alistair nodded. "She and Tamlen are _both_ Dalish, from the same Clan. They were tainted by the darkspawn, and Duncan recruited them to save their lives. Do you have Dalish Wardens in Orlais?"

"No, there are few Dalish Clans in the whole country." She tucked her hair behind her ear, and hesitantly looked at Ashara. "We...are often told that they are barbaric savages."

Alistair couldn't help but laugh, imagining Ashara's expression if she had heard something like that. "They're not savages, but they're not exactly friendly either. But since they're Dalish, it apparently means that they're better than everyone else." He rolled his eyes.

Kira laughed at his expression. "Are they really _that_ bad?"

He hesitated. If he was honest, he had to admit that the Dalish _did_ have a lot of reasons to be angry. "Well...they've been taught to mistrust humans, and there are some things that Ashara's said, that makes me think that she's seen the worst of humanity, but...they tend to think that _all_ humans are stupid and evil." He sighed. "I think the only reason that they put up with us is because they don't have any other choice."

Kira nodded, as if this all made perfect sense to her. "What about the other elf girl? I think Leliana said her name was Kali?"

Alistair looked at the little rogue. She was chattering enthusiastically with Ashara; her bright face was animated and cheerful. "She's a lot nicer than Ashara, that's for sure." He didn't really want to talk more about her; at least, not with Kira. There was something about Kali that brought out the protectiveness in him, a need to keep her sheltered, to keep that innocent smile on her face.

Over the past four months, since they had escaped from Ostagar, he had spent quite a bit of time with her, talking, training, or keeping watch together. She was sweet and caring; she liked to laugh, and her wide-eyed excitement, at almost everything they encountered, was a breath of fresh air; a welcome relief from the death that they dealt with every day.

He had grown to care about her, and started to wonder if maybe that caring was...something deeper. But it was hard for him to tell; it wasn't like he was experienced with girls. Besides, he saw how she flushed and giggled whenever Zevran was around, how she sought him out and enjoyed his company. Wynne told him that his feelings were natural. He and Kali had been through a lot together, and she was the only one that he really had to talk to. It was easy to mistake those feelings for something deeper. She had cautioned him against imagining that there was more to it than there really was.

Alistair shook himself, hoping that his thoughts didn't show on his face. But when he looked at Kira, she was busy watching their surroundings; if she noticed anything, she didn't show it.

oOo

The sun was slowly setting, and the cold sky was ablaze with vibrant ribbons of reds, oranges, and pinks. Ashara drifted away from the camp; the evening meal wasn't even ready yet, but already Oghren and Aric were drunk, sitting next to their tents and singing obnoxiously about a warrior slipping his "pike" to a dwarven princess. The two of _them_ might find the song hilarious, but they were giving Ashara a headache.

Besides, she needed to focus. She held two small daggers in her hands, and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she pulled at the flow of energy swirling around her, and pushed the current through the daggers. Sparks of lightning danced strongly around the blades; she could feel the power behind it, and smiled to herself. It was as she thought; magic flowed much easier through metal, rather than the wood staff she was used to using.

She had discovered this completely by accident, during their time in the Deep Roads, when her father's staff had been broken in half by one of Branka's golems. Out of desperation, she grabbed the only thing she could find, one of Kali's dropped daggers. What she had learned, was that the flow of magic was much stronger through metal, and took less time to cast.

She stopped the channel of magic, and watched as the sparks of lightning slowly faded. For a moment she stood silently, staring at the daggers in her hands. To use these weapons would mean giving up her father's staff, the staff she had carried since she became First. She picked up the two wooden pieces of her father's staff and sat down, leaning against a large and comforting tree.

_Maybe...maybe I can fix the staff_. Her father had carried it during his time as the Keeper; it was the only item of his that she possessed. She stared at the broken pieces, as if she could see her father's face in the polished wood.

She had always carried the staff; she wanted to use it to honor her father's memory. But, the daggers would keep her better protected. If an enemy got too close to her, and she didn't have time to cast a spell, she could use the sharp blades to defend herself.

Tears suddenly pooled in the corners of her eyes and she angrily lifted her head, glaring at the sky until they retreated. _Damn it! There's no reason to cry!_ _The stupid staff is nothing but broken pieces of wood, used by a man I've never even met. It's nothing to cry over!_

She heard light footsteps approaching her, and swiftly set the broken staff to the side; the last thing she needed was for someone to see her all weepy.

Kali poked her head around the tree, and smiled to see her. "There you are!" She plopped down next to Ashara. "You know, I'm starting to see how you Dalish manage to avoid humans so well; when you and Tamlen disappear out into the woods, you're almost impossible to..." She trailed off, and looked strangely at Ashara. "Are you alright?"

Ashara straightened up, and managed a smile. She hoped it was convincing enough. "Of course; I was just practicing with those daggers Zevran gave me."

Kali bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. She looked away, and her voice grew quiet. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but there's no reason to lie."

Ashara sighed; Kali was far more observant than she gave her credit for. "I'm sorry, _lethallan_. I was just...thinking about my father."

"Really?" The little rogue looked interested. "You've never talked about him; what was he like?"

"I don't know; he was killed by humans, before I was born."

Kali's green eyes widened. "I'm so sorry." She hesitated. "What about your mother?"

Ashara inhaled deeply, forcing back the wave of hatred that washed over her. She _wasn't _ angry at Kali. "My mother...disappeared. I was told that the very night after she gave birth to me, she simply walked out into the darkness, and was never seen again."

"Ashara, that's horrible!"

She shrugged, as if she didn't care one way or the other. It was hard to push back the anger and bitterness, but there was no point in dwelling over it. Her hand drifted to her stomach. _I will never let my child grow up without a mother. _"Kali, I need you to promise me something."

"Of course."

She hesitated. "I need you to promise...that if something should happen to me after the baby is born, you will help raise it."

Kali's eyes were almost twice their size. "What?"

"If something happens to me, I want you to stay with Tamlen and help him raise the baby." She couldn't help but smile a little at Kali's expression. "There's no need to look like that; I'm not asking you to mate with him or anything. I just want you to help him raise the baby."

"W...why would you want something like that?"

Ashara lowered her eyes. "I know what it's like to grow up without a mother. I need to know that if I die, my baby will grow up with people that I trust. I need to know that you and Tamlen will help to keep my memory alive; I don't want my child to think that I abandoned him."

"But..."

"Just, promise me." She managed a small smile. "I don't have any _plans _of dying, _lethallan_. I'm going to do everything I can to keep all of us safe. But we _are _going to fight a war; I just...I need to know that if something _does_ happen to me, my baby will be well taken care of."

"Have you told Tamlen this?"

Ashara fiddled with the daggers in her lap. "No, not yet. I don't want him to know how much I've been worrying about this." She sighed, and looked up at the sky, where the first stars started to shine. "Tamlen wants to be the strong one; he wants to be the one that supports me. He rarely talks about his own worries and fears, because, for some reason, he thinks that this will make me lose respect for him. If I tell him this, he's only going to be stressed and worry."

She had already done something to make him feel awkward around her. She must have, since he wasn't there with her. Normally when she disappeared from the camp, he followed behind. She could always be sure that he would find her, and the two of them would sit together and talk. But this time he didn't. For whatever reason, he hadn't followed.

Kali watched Ashara carefully. "Fine. I'll promise, if that's what you want. But you're _not_ going to die." She was quiet for a moment, and then her face broke out into a bright smile. "You know, you're going to be a wonderful mother."

Ashara sighed and frowned at the sky, not meeting Kali's eyes. "You think so, do you? I'm not exactly known for my nurturing personality." _What if I can't be a good mother? _

Kali shook her head. "Nonsense! Do you remember that second night, after we went to the Circle Tower; I tried to apologize for getting hurt? I thought I was weak, and that I couldn't help any of you fight. But you took me aside, sat me down, and started listing off a bunch of different reasons for why I wasn't as useless as I thought. By the time you were done, I started to really see the different skills that I _do_ have." She raised an eyebrow and continued to smile. "I think that _you_ need something like that now, to help you see what a good mother you're going to be."

She cleared her throat, and Ashara couldn't help but chuckle. "You just said that you know what it's like to grow up without a mother, and you're already making plans to ensure that your baby is raised with people who care about him." She smiled. "That _shows_ what a good mother you'll be. You're going to love your baby, and raise him or her to be proud of their Dalish roots. You'll teach them all about herbs, and Tamlen will show them how to hunt. And if your baby is a mage, you're going to teach it all of the secret Dalish spells." She nodded firmly. "I _know_ you're going to be a good mother."

Ashara was smiling by the time Kali was finished. _Maybe I'm just stressed over nothing; it's not like I'll end up following my mother's footsteps and abandoning my child. I could never do that. _

Life as a Grey Warden had forced her to be cold, to harden her heart, to hold her head up, and to endure whatever came her way. But maybe this child would bring her back to who she once was, a proud Dalish mage, who wished for nothing more than to care for her people and keep them safe.

"_Ma serannas, lethallan_." She felt as though her heart was a bit lighter.

Kali tilted her head. "_Ma...sar...sera...nnas..._does that mean, 'thank you'?"

"Yes, it does."

"Do you think..." Kali plucked at a blade of grass. "I mean...your language is so beautiful...I'd like...I'd like to learn it." She swiftly lifted her head. "I mean, if that's okay. I know you don't tell humans what the words mean..."

Ashara smiled. "You want to learn the _Elvhenan_ language?" Kali nodded vigorously. "I'd be more than happy to teach you."

"Really? I was...afraid that it was a secret."

"Never from the _Elvhen_. Your ancestors lived in Arlathan too, _lethallan_. Your kin of the city might not remember their history, and they may worship the Maker, but that doesn't change the fact that our gods are the Creators, and that we all share the same past."

"I'd like to learn everything." Kali hesitated. "I...I want to learn to be proud of my ancestors. In the alienage, we're taught that Andraste freed us from slavery, and that we owe the Maker our lives. But, we don't know anything about our time before that."

Ashara smiled. "Well, no time like the present."

oOo

Tamlen sat in a small, secluded area away from the camp, making himself a new pile of arrows. He didn't really _need_ them, but the work gave him something to do. Right now, he needed to _do _something. He needed something to distract himself, but it wasn't working as well as he had hoped.

Ashara had disappeared off into the trees, without saying a word to him. He wanted to follow, but for the first time in his life, he hesitated. _She is with child, my child, and I should be by her side. I should be holding her, comforting her, easing her fears_. She rarely spoke her thoughts to anyone, and she would need someone to talk to, but this time he wasn't so sure of his welcome. What could he say to her? _All I could do was take the cowards way out, and ask Kali to go after her._

Ashara had been so nervous about telling him that she was pregnant; her eyes had refused to meet his, and she had even taken a step away from him. Selfish as he was, his first thought had only been that he was going to be a father. He was going to share a child with the woman he loved.

But as the day wore on, he started to realize the full implications of what he had done. Ashara was a Grey Warden; she was the leader of this group, and had a multitude of tasks and responsibilities to carry out. And now, she had an even bigger burden to carry.

When a woman of the Clan was with child, she stayed at the camp, surrounded by her kin. Pregnant women couldn't run fast, or even defend themselves; they were easy prey. It was the job of everyone in the Clan, especially the father, to keep her protected. Among the Dalish, children were precious, and a woman with child was well taken care of.

If Ashara were with their Clan, she would be petted and served. Children would carry her belongings, and the hunters would bring her their catch first, before the rest of the Clan ate. She would always have an arm to lean against, and if the weather was cold, the Clan would offer up their own blankets. Women would flutter around her, to share in each new sensation, and help ease the new mother's fears.

But these strangers would not take care of her the way the Clan would. She would still have to lead, to fight, and she knew that. When he tried to tell her to rest, to let her body work its magic in peace, she had refused.

_I have forced her to endure too much._ _Ashara is stronger than any woman I have ever known. _Tamlen smiled. _It was one of the reasons I fell in love with her, but how much could one person handle? _She had been taken from her Clan, forced to give up her rightful position, and now she had to endure the prospect of birthing her child in an alien world, surrounded by strangers.

Well, there was only one way to help her. _I cannot allow myself to continue to wallow in this guilt; I will have to keep my head up and take over some of her duties. _He would hunt only for her, let her lean against him when she became too tired, and do everything he could to ease her stress. _And I will never leave her side._

He heard soft footsteps on the grass, and jumped to his feet, grabbing his bow and holding it ready. The steps were quiet, almost completely silent. If he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have even heard the movements. But he was a Dalish hunter, trained to take over the duties of a Chief Hunter.

He scowled and lowered his bow as he saw Zevran approach. _By the Creators, what does he want now?_ He _had_ gained a measure of respect for the assassin, his attacks were skilled, and his movements were clever. As long as Zevran didn't try his charms on Ashara, Tamlen had no problems with him. Sometimes, he even _enjoyed_ the assassin's presence; he often reminded Tamlen of Fenarel, his best friend. But right now, Tamlen just wanted to think.

"What do you want?" His voice was a bit harsher than he intended.

Zevran held his hands up. "Now, there is no reason to get violent, my friend. I only came to tell you that the evening meal is ready."

Tamlen set his bow aside, and sat down defiantly. "I'm not hungry."

Zevran looked skeptical. "From what Alistair tells me, you Grey Wardens have appetites to rival the Archdemon; yet you are not hungry at all?"

Tamlen shrugged, and scowled at his newly fashioned arrows. _Maybe if I look busy enough, Zevran will leave me alone. _

He should have known it wouldn't work. Zevran sat down a few feet away from the Dalish man, and looked at him intently. "Something is troubling you, yes?"

"It's not important."

"I would have to disagree." He rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "From the scowl on your face, I can guess that you are thinking about your lovely woman. After all, you both have had quite a day."

Tamlen stiffened, a harsh reply on his tongue. But Zevran looked as though he was honestly trying to get him to talk; he shrugged. "I'm just thinking about how hard it's going to be for Ashara, since she's a Grey Warden, and far away from the Clan, and now with child. She's going to need help." He looked at the assassin. "That means that you'll have to take a break from flirting with Kali, and actually help out around the camp for once."

Zevran laughed. "I think I can manage that." He leaned back on his hands, and smiled up at the darkening sky. "The little Warden barely notices anyway."

Tamlen chuckled. Whenever Zevran attempted to flirt with or charm Kali, the words just sailed right over her head. She seemed almost completely oblivious to anything. It _was_ kind of funny to watch.

"Just do not make me cook," the assassin continued. "My cooking is worst than Alistair's, and we now have a pregnant woman in our group. Have you seen how angry they can get if a meal is not cooked to their satisfaction? I have no desire to be the focus of her rage."

Tamlen started laughing, despite himself. "No, I think we'll let Wynne continue to cook. It's the only thing she's useful for." He suddenly felt a bit better. He could count on Zevran and Kali, at least, to help him make Ashara's life a bit easier. With their help, he could always be by Ashara's side. He gathered his materials, and stood up. "You know, I guess I _am_ hungry, after all."

Zevran grinned. "I thought so, my friend."

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<br>vulpasha - nickname that Tamlen has for Ashara  
>hahren - elder<br>emma'lath - my love  
>lethallan - close friend or kinsman; used for females<br>ma serannas - thank you  
>Elvhenan - technically the society of Arlathan; the Dalish use it for themselves, in reference to their belief that they are the only 'true elves'<br>Elvhen - elves_

__This chapter was a bit of a step outside of my comfort zone, with the different povs, so thoughts/suggestions on that would be greatly appreciated :]_ _

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, alerting, or reading. It means a lot 3_

_~Seika_


	22. Requiem of the Spirit

_As always, I am greatly indebted to Kira Tamarion, for her support, advice, and beta skills. She really has been a wonderful gift, and a good friend._

* * *

><p><strong>Requiem of the Spirit<strong>

Ashara stood with her hands on her hips, and with a critical gaze, surveyed the trees around her. "You know, if we were in the Brecilian Forest, I'd have collected all the herbs I could possibly need by now." She frowned, and poked her foot into the wet dirt. It had rained only a few days ago, but the ground was still sodden. "At this rate, I'm going to be filthy by the time we're done."

Behind her, Tamlen studied the bits of gray sky, visible from between the trees. "It's probably going to snow by the end of the day."

"Oh, wonderful." She scowled, and scanned the hundreds of trees, searching for the specific type that she needed. Her impatience got the better of her, and she threw up her hands. "This is ridiculous. In the Brecilian Forest I know _exactly_ where to look!" She sighed dramatically. "The trees _have_ to be here, somewhere. Other Clans have camped this way before; they would have needed the exact same thing!"

Tamlen looked around doubtfully. "Can you do the ritual without the needles?"

"Yes, but I don't want to. The Keeper was very specific when she showed me the herbs we use for the ritual, and I don't want to mess that up."

In only two days' time, it would be the day of _Sha'nan_, the day to honor Elgar'nan, the God of Vengeance and the Father of the Creators. It was a powerful ritual, a beautiful ceremony to show the Father of the Creators that His children hadn't forgotten Him. Since Ashara and Tamlen were no longer with their Clan, they had debated on whether or not they should perform the ritual. They knew that, even now, the Clan would be preparing for the feast, polishing their instruments and practicing their dances. The Keeper would offer up the sacrifice, so did Ashara and Tamlen need to offer up another one?

It was decided that they did. Neither of them wished to face the coming battles without the blessing and good luck that such a ritual brought about. If they couldn't be there to celebrate the day of festivities with their Clan, they could at least perform the ending ritual themselves. In doing so, they would show Elgar'nan that though they were now part of the outside world, they still held on to their roots.

But such a ritual required preparation. Ashara had gathered almost all of the herbs that she needed, and that night Tamlen would have to scout the forest to bring back the live deer that the Keeper always sacrificed.

_All I need are pine needles._ Ashara irritably scanned the forest. _This is a cold place with tons of greenery; pine trees should be everywhere!_

She trudged forward, with Tamlen following silently behind. Their group had been camped for three days now, so that she and Tamlen could prepare, and though most of her companions were confused at staying in one spot for so long, she had refused to answer any questions. When they received no answers, most of them just assumed that Ashara was feeling ill because of the baby. She wasn't about to tell them any different; the rituals of the _Elvhenan_ must remain secret at all costs.

Luckily, for her, they were camped near a village, and the day of _Sha'nan_ was something called Wintersend to the humans. They had plans to go to the village and watch the festival; she and Tamlen would have peace.

Only Kali, and perhaps Zevran, would be welcome. The little rogue wanted to learn about the _Elvhenan_, and what better way than to bear witness to the beautiful rituals that linked them to their past? Ashara couldn't wait for Kali to see it; she was certain that the little rogue would be enchanted.

_But the ritual won't happen if I can't find the pine needles._ She and Tamlen had already been searching for more than an hour, and as the time passed, she found herself growing more and more irritated. But it seemed that she was irritated at everything these days, her companions, the Blight, and most of all, Tamlen.

He had been moody and silent for the past two weeks, ever since she told him that she was with child. At first she tried to ask him about it, but he shrugged off her questions. He went out of his way to do things for her; he never let her carry anything, brought her food and drink before she even realized she was hungry, and always took watches with her.

His actions were sweet and caring, but he barely talked to her. After her questions were ignored, she tried being understanding. Maybe he was just stressed, or worried. Even if a man was eager to have a child, it was still a sobering experience. So, she tried to just accept his help, and waited for him to cheer-up. But he stayed quiet and sullen, and the more she had to wait, the angrier she became. _If he doesn't tell me soon, I'm going to have to beat it out of him._

But for the time being, she should just focus on preparing for the ritual. "Tamlen, you and Alistair came through here the other night, when you caught those birds. Do you remember seeing any pine trees?"

He didn't say anything as he watched a squirrel dart through the trees.

"Tamlen?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her. "Hmm?"

"I asked if you remember seeing any pine trees around here."

"Oh. No, I don't." He turned to watch the squirrel again.

Ashara scowled. As much as she loved him, she was never one to wait patiently for an answer. If there was something she wanted to know, she made sure to find out, through whatever means necessary. It had taken all of her willpower to remain silent as long as she had, but his current detachment finally tipped the balance between her anger, and her desire to understand.

She glared at him through narrowed eyes. "What, in Mythal's name, is _wrong_ with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you _think_ I mean? You've been sullen and withdrawn ever since I told you I was pregnant, and I want to know why!"

Tamlen sighed, and looked at the sky, the ground, everywhere but her. "It's not important. Let's...let's just find the pine tree, and go back to camp."

Ashara crossed her arms. "Tamlen, how long have you known me?"

He seemed startled by the question. "Uh, since you were born, I guess."

"Exactly. And in that time, have you _ever _known me to just let something like this go?"

He looked defeated. "Look, I just, I don't know what to say. I'm trying to just focus on helping you with your pregnancy, and not think about anything else." Ashara continued to glare at him; he sighed, and ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. "I guess I'm just...worried about your pregnancy. How am I going to keep you, and the baby, safe? And the worst part, is that it's my f..."

But he never got to finish his sentence; clumps of mud suddenly pelted him in the head, knocking him to the ground. He lay in the mud for a moment, with a confused look, before he scrambled back to his feet and saw Ashara glaring at him, holding her hand out over the ground. "What was _that _for?"

More clumps of mud lifted from the ground and shot at him, but this time he managed to duck and avoid them. "Will you _stop_ doing that!"

"Then _you_ stop apologizing!" Ashara sent more energy to the ground, preparing to hit him again if he continued to act like an idiot. "You've done nothing but apologize and mope since we became Grey Wardens, and there's no reason for it! Stop feeling guilty over things that aren't your fault!"

He glared at her, and pointed to her stomach. "Well obviously I did _something_, or else you wouldn't be pregnant!"

Ashara stiffened, and was about to hit him again, to knock some sense into his head, but she stopped herself. Tamlen was filthy, covered in mud, with twigs and leaves sticking to his hair and clothes. He looked utterly ridiculous, and she found herself grinning. Before she could stop herself, she started laughing.

Tamlen continued to glare at her, but he watched as she doubled over with laughter; his face lightened, and he started to join in.

The two of them continued to laugh for a time, and finally settled into a comfortable silence. Ashara put her hands on her hips, sparkling with amusement, and looked up at him. "Well, are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, I am, actually." Tamlen tried to wipe the mud from his face, but there wasn't much he could do without fresh water. Eventually, he gave up, and tried to look stern, but his lips twitched. "You know, you didn't need to throw mud at me to make me feel better."

"How else was I supposed to get anything into that thick head of yours?"

He rolled his eyes, and looked at his mud-covered arms. When he lifted his head and grinned, there was a glint in his blue eyes. "Well, since I'm feeling so much better, how about I give you a hug?"

Ashara took a step back. "Oh no, you don't get to touch me. Look at you; you're filthy!"

"But it's _your_ fault that I'm covered in mud." He pretended to pout. "Don't you love me?"

"Not _that_ much."

Tamlen lunged at her; she laughed and pranced away from him. _This_ was the Tamlen she remembered, the Tamlen she had fallen in love with. The Tamlen who would tease her, laugh with her, and get into mischief. She ducked under a branch and tried to jump away from him, but he was too fast for her; he caught her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She laughed and protested, but he rubbed his arms and face in her hair, against her skin, wiping mud all over her. "Tamlen, stop it!"

He laughed. "Not until you apologize!"

She tried to squirm away, but his strong arms tightened around her; she was forced to give up. "Alright, I'm sorry I threw mud at you!"

Tamlen relaxed, but he didn't let her go. Instead, he buried his face in her hair, and continued to hold her close. "_Ma serannas, vulpasha._ I needed this."

Her hair muffled his words, but she could hear them fine. "We're in this together, Tamlen. Never forget that. Whatever happens, as long as we're together, I know we can get through it."

He kissed her head. "I love you, Ashara."

"And I love you." She nestled into his embrace, careless of the mud, unable to hide her smile. Even if they didn't find the pine for the ritual, she felt as though the Creators were smiling. _Not a bad day; not a bad day at all._

oOo

The sun was high in the sky, and Kali was sitting by her tent, working on the last pieces of her secret project. She was almost finished, and couldn't wait to show it to Ashara.

No one could figure out why the Dalish woman had demanded that they make camp for five days, but it was kind of nice to stay in one spot for a while. It gave everyone a chance to rest, and catch up on their work. Together, Wynne and Kali had managed to mend all of their torn clothing, while Leliana and Kira had dealt with the unfortunate task of giving Drake a bath. He wasn't too fond of water, and they had to chase him around the camp until Sten finally picked him up and threw him into the lake.

The best part was that they were only about two miles away from a quiet little place called Andreby Village, which meant that they had plenty of time to stock up on all of their supplies. Plus, it had given Kali the chance to sneak away with some money, and get the items she needed for her secret project.

"Working on your surprise?"

Kali yelped, and almost jumped out of her skin. She turned around and saw Zevran standing beside her, an innocent smile on his face. "Will you _stop_ doing that?"

"But your eyes widen so charmingly when you've been startled."

Heat crept up her face, until she could practically feel her ears burning. She turned back to her work, so that he wouldn't notice. "Yes, I'm working on my surprise." She held up the dark fabric. "I'm almost ready to show Ashara; she needs to try it on so that I can make sure it fits right." She was unable to keep the excitement from her voice; Kali was quite proud of her surprise.

Tamlen wanted Ashara to start wearing something that would keep her better protected, but the Dalish woman had next to no skill with cloth, so Kali had the idea to make Ashara new clothes. The village had exactly what she needed, and she was sure that Ashara would be pleased.

She eagerly grabbed the items, and hid them in her tent, before stepping out to look for Ashara. Finally, she spotted her; the Dalish woman was on the other side of the camp, inspecting the live deer that Tamlen and Zevran had caught. For some reason, Tamlen wanted to keep it alive, but neither he nor Ashara would tell anyone why.

"Ashara!" The Dalish woman looked up, and Kali waved to her. "Come here; I want to show you something!"

Ashara glided over, looking a bit confused. "What is it, _lethallan_?"

Kali was practically bursting with eagerness. "I need you to come to my tent! I have a surprise for you!"

Ashara turned to Zevran with something of a suspicious look. He laughed, and held up his hands. "Do not give _me_ such a look; I had nothing to do with it!"

Tamlen walked over from his spot by the fire, and looked at Kali. "You've finished?" She nodded, and he beamed.

Ashara looked at the three of them. "What's going on?"

Kali pointed to her tent. "You'll see soon enough; just go in." She looked at Zevran and Tamlen. "You two stay out. Especially you, Zevran."

She could hear the assassin laughing as she followed Ashara into the tent, and the Dalish woman turned to her with her hands on her hips. She looked as though she was fighting back a grin. "_Now_ will you tell me what's going on?"

Kali bent to her bedroll, and pulled out the robe. "Look! I made something new for you to wear!"

Ashara gaped at her for a moment, and hesitantly took the fabric. "You...made me clothing?"

"You promised Tamlen that you would wear something that offered more protection, so I thought that I would find something new for you to wear!"

"I...I don't know what to say." Ashara stared at the fabric, and Kali felt her heart plummet.

"You...don't like it?"

"No, that's not it at all! It's beautiful!"

"Try it on!"

Ashara grinned, and slipped out of her skirt and shirt. Under her clothes she wore a breast band and loincloth, and Kali could easily see the slight rounding of her stomach. She was almost four months now; Wynne said that in another month or so, Ashara would get bigger, and after that the baby would start to shift.

The Dalish woman slipped the robe over her head, and smoothed it around her stomach and legs. The dark blue fabric looked beautiful on her; the robe left her neck and shoulders bare, exposing the sharp contrast between the cloth and her white skin, and the large bell-shaped sleeves that hung loosely from her wrists.

Ashara held her arms out and twisted around, modeling the robe for Kali. "This is much more comfortable than most of the mage robes I've seen!"

Kali giggled. "Well, you need this too!" She reached under the bedroll and pulled out the second part of her surprise, a black leather corset. "The fabric of the robe is thicker than that skirt you wore, but it's still not thick enough to protect against a blade. This will help."

Ashara took the corset; it covered her chest and stomach, and was a perfect match for the dark blue robe. "Could you tie it for me?" She twisted around, and used one hand to sweep her long black hair to the top of her head.

Kali laced the corset, and then stepped back to admire her work. "The corset can be let out when your stomach gets bigger, and the since the leather is so thick it will protect against a blade."

Ashara beamed, and admired the way the robe fit her willowy frame. "You made this entire outfit?"

"Well, not really. The robe was already made, but it was very worn and had tears all through it, and I think it was made for a human. All I did was cut it down, and use some of the fabric left over to mend the tears. Then, I found the corset to match it." She dipped her head. "I hope you don't mind, but I took some of the money you save for our equipment and weapons. Tamlen got the money for me, so that you wouldn't notice me sneaking into your tent."

Ashara started laughing. "It looks brand new! You mend better than Ashalle!" She reached out and pulled Kali into a tight embrace. "_Ma serannas, lethallan._"

Kali beamed. "_Ma'elas_. That's the right way to say 'you're welcome', right?"

The Dalish woman nodded, and held Kali out to look at her. "I have a surprise for you, too."

"Really? What is it?"

"It's not as wonderful as the gift you've given me, but I hope you're going to enjoy it. You said that today is Wintersend, right? Alistair and the others are going to visit the village to watch the festival tonight, correct?" Kali nodded. "Well, tonight is an important night for the _Elvhenan_. We aren't able to celebrate for the entire day, like we would do in our Clan, but Tamlen and I are going to perform a ritual to Elgar'nan, and I...thought you might like to join us." She lowered her eyes. "Normally, we hide our rituals from outsiders, but you've been wanting to learn about the history and customs of our ancestors, so I...thought you might like to see it. I'm sure Elgar'nan would be pleased."

Kali was stunned. She knew, from Ashara's lessons, that Elgar'nan was one of the most important gods of the Dalish. He was the Father of the Creators, the One who created all living beings with His wife, Mythal. The Dalish called Him the God of Vengeance, the one who protected them. For Ashara to ask something like that was no light matter. "You...you wouldn't mind if I watched?"

"I...think that the Creators will be happy to know that one of Their children wishes to learn about Them."

Kali hesitated. "Um, do you mind if Zevran comes?" She didn't want to push her luck, but she had to ask. "His mother was Dalish, and he might be interested to see it. But, I don't know for sure, though."

Ashara smiled. "Not at all; the Keeper once told me that if any of the _Elvhen_ wished to learn about their ancestors, it was our duty to show them. We'll start after everyone else leaves. But, you can't tell any of them what we do tonight." She glanced away. "I know...that Alistair, and Leliana, and even Kira are...not like the _shemlen_ that I was taught to hate, but they are still human. I...can't let them see Dalish secrets."

Kali nodded. "I understand."

oOo

The night sky sparkled with thousands of glittering stars, and the camp was eerily quiet, save for the crackling and snapping of the small fire. Sten was off training somewhere, Morrigan had taken on her raven form and flown off, and the rest of the group had long since gone towards the village, eager to watch the Wintersend festival, to relax and forget about the Blight, and the civil war brewing.

Kali and Zevran sat side by side, watching, as Ashara slowly built up the fire, murmuring words that Kali couldn't hear. There was a small wooden platter on the ground that held a wooden bowl, a bundle of herbs, and various tools. Most of them Kali could recognize; they were tools that Tamlen used when preparing his kills for meals. But one looked like a small scythe. Kali had never seen anything like that before.

Tamlen came over, leading the deer on a length of rope. The doe had been with them for two days now, and was no longer bucking and trying to get away, but Kali could see that she was still nervous. Her tail twitched, and she stomped her feet in agitation.

Zevran sat silently by her side, and Kali was pleased that he had agreed to stay. She thought that he might like to see some of the rituals of his mother, though if the assassin was eager, he didn't show it. If anything, he looked only mildly curious.

Ashara finished stoking the fire, and reached down to pick up the large bundle of herbs. She looked at Kali and Zevran, and for the first time, Kali could see exactly what being First of a Clan meant. Ashara's violet eyes were unfocused, as if she was gazing at something that the rest of them couldn't see. She looked like a seer, a wise woman, who could predict the future and call on the wrath of a god. She looked powerful.

"These are the herbs we burn; juniper, sassafras, and pine leaves." Ashara's voice had grown deep and mesmerizing, as she tossed the bundle into the fire. "They chase away the sickness that comes with the cold weather, and keep our bodies purified."

She glanced at Tamlen, who was stroking the deer's neck, trying to keep her calm. "Now I speak to Elgar'nan, and ask for His blessing." She tipped her head back, lifted her arms to the sky, and her lyrical voice began to chant.

"_Elgar'nan, Sha'nan;  
>Havhen Shalasa'en;<br>Havhen elgen;  
>Nami'terah ar'en;<br>Na'valadin teras ar'en;  
>Mana da'en reth;<br>Sa'vunin ar'en shalas,  
>ma su'mana ar'en;<br>Na'nanir elnanir;  
>Na'llin el llin;<br>Ma'amanah din'isa sulador,  
>sa'vunin ma'isa revas;<br>Ara ar'en nada'len,  
>ora'sulevin suledin;<br>Ar'en esalven sa'vunin,  
>na'revas;<br>Nami isa na'din,  
>elnanir;<br>Su'mana revas Elvhen,  
>shiralen.<em>"

Kali felt shivers creep up her spine. She recognized some of the words, and realized that Ashara was swearing to remain faithful and constant to Elgar'nan, while at the same time praying for the day when His sword would strike down their enemies, and bring freedom to the elves. She stole a glance at Tamlen, and saw that he was watching Ashara with something of a hard glint in his eyes. _They're praying for a war against the humans,_ she realized. _They want their Creators freed, so that they can wage war on the rest of the world, and reclaim their lost history._

Ashara lowered her arms, and gestured to Tamlen. He handed her the small weapon that looked like a tiny scythe. Ashara took it, and moved towards the deer. She took the rope from Tamlen, who reached down and grabbed the plain wooden bowl.

Ashara looked at Kali and Zevran. "Now we offer the sacrifice to Elgar'nan." Kali's eyes widened; foolish of her, but she hadn't realized that they kept the deer alive, only to sacrifice it later. But Ashara's violet eyes were emotionless; Kali couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"We give it a clean and swift death," Ashara continued. "There is no merit in prolonging its pain; the Creators do not want Their children to suffer."

She placed her white hand on the deer's head. At her touch, the deer stopped shivering, and stood silently. Black eyes met violet eyes, and both of them grew still, while Tamlen knelt in front of the deer with the bowl held up. Then, in a swift movement, almost too fast for Kali to see, Ashara brought the curved blade across the deer's throat. Tamlen caught the blood in the bowl, and Kali watched, as the deer slowly sank to the ground. Ashara smiled sadly. "Elgar'nan accepts the sacrifice." She watched Tamlen finish collecting the blood. "We do not sacrifice animals often, but those that do are guaranteed a place by the Creators' sides. This deer will be welcomed into the Beyond."

Tamlen stood up, and handed her the bowl of blood. Ashara bent her head reverently, and held her palm over the bowl. Kali could have sworn that the wind picked up. "We will give this blood back to the earth, so that it can nourish new life. By doing this, we share Elgar'nan's blessing with nature, our kin."

She set the bowl aside, while Tamlen shifted the deer and went to work skinning it. Ashara watched him for a moment, before turning back to Kali and Zevran. "The ritual is complete. We have reminded our Father that we will never forget Him, and received His blessing." She clapped her hands together. "Never forget the lessons He taught us. In our end, is our beginning. We are the _Elvhen_; we may be defeated, but we will always rise again."

Kali stared up at her. "It's over?"

Ashara smiled; the vacant gaze of the seer had dissolved. She looked normal again. "For our purposes, yes. Among the Dalish, we spend the entire day dancing, singing, and giving Him multiple offerings. What we just did is the ritual enacted at the very end of the day." She gestured to the deer that Tamlen was working on. "Each member of the Clan would get at least one bite of the deer, to partake in Elgar'nan's blessing and be assured good luck. Since there are only four of us, we'll each get a much bigger portion. Whatever we don't eat, will be saved for later." She bent down to pick up the bowl. "Now, I will give this back to the earth." She glided off into the forest.

Zevran sighed heavily, and stretched out his arms. "The Dalish rituals are very fascinating to watch; far more entertaining than the Chant of Light, at least." He stood up and went over to Tamlen. "Do you need help, my friend?" Tamlen nodded, and the two men set to work. They often hunted together; Tamlen had taught Zevran how to clean and skin a kill.

Kali leaned back on her hands, and watched the two of them work. The ritual had been brief, but even she could sense the power behind it. Ashara had said that this gift wouldn't be nearly as powerful as the new outfit Kali had given her, but Kali disagreed. Ashara had given her a chance to learn about her ancestors. Because of the Dalish woman, Kali felt as though she was part of an ancient and powerful history, she felt as though she had something to be proud of.

For a girl who had grown up in an alienage, who was taught that elves were inferior to humans in every way; to be part of something so powerful was better than any physical gift.

The Chantry claimed that the Dalish were barbaric heathens, who had turned their backs on all the gifts of the Maker. But they didn't hear the longing in Ashara's voice, the painful way she swore to remain faithful to Elgar'nan, the way she promised to never forget Him. It was cruel to judge the Dalish so harshly, and a part of Kali couldn't blame them for wanting a war against the humans. After so many years of being hunted and hated, just for who they were, how could they not want a reversal of fortune, a chance to once again be immortal and powerful?

_Watch for silver and shadow. They will bring peace._

The soothing voice whispered around Kali; she jumped, and looked around frantically. "Did you hear that?"

Zevran and Tamlen looked up from their work, and stared at her. "Hear what?" Tamlen asked.

"I...I heard something. Like a whisper." But there was nothing around her. The only noise was the cold wind.

Zevran raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you heard correctly?"

Tamlen shrugged. "It's probably just the rustle of the leaves. Sometimes, it can sound like words, especially after such a powerful ritual."

Kali continued to, nervously, look around, but there was nothing to see. "Maybe...maybe you're right." The two men went back to their work as if nothing was wrong, and Kali tried to feel reassured. But she couldn't ignore the sense that they were all being watched.

oOo

Morrigan sat in a large and ancient tree, listening to the soothing sounds of the forest. The rest of the fools had gone to the village to celebrate one of their meaningless holidays, but she had no desire to join them. She had seen one such festival in Lothering when she was young; it was nothing but a bunch of drunken men and women trying to sing and dance. She had no desire to repeat the experience.

So she had taken her raven form and flown off, desiring peace, and above all, silence.

The cold air was soothing; Morrigan tipped her head back, and let the wind caress her skin. She loved the peace of the forest; it was the only place she felt truly at home. Creatures of the forest were simple and innocent; they understood nothing but survival, and she loved them for that alone.

A deep, nagging guilt pricked at her heart, and Morrigan lifted her head impatiently. She was growing more and more irritated with it; why should she feel guilty for lying to Ashara. _The girl is nothing but a pawn_, Morrigan reminded herself, _a pawn in Flemeth's game._

But she had grown fond of the Dalish woman. Ashara was not a fool like all the others. She respected power and knowledge. In a foreign and alien world, as strange to her as it was to Morrigan, she held her head high, and walked through it with a sense of arrogance that rivaled Morrigan's own. But Ashara's arrogance did not lead to folly. She understood that she knew nothing about the human world, and often deferred to Morrigan's advice. The two, often, sat up late into the night, exchanging magical knowledge and theories. Ashara was a strong woman, proud of her power, and Morrigan respected that.

The witch tried to comfort herself with the notion that Ashara knew that something was being kept from her. When Morrigan had asked her to kill Flemeth, Ashara had been quick to point out that she knew something was wrong. But even so, she agreed to help the witch, and Morrigan had been surprised at her willingness.

Morrigan closed her eyes, and listened to the wind gently billow through the trees. Flemeth had no desire to possess her. What she wanted was something much more powerful.

But Morrigan would _never_ let the old woman have it. She thought that her daughter was obedient, that she would always do as Flemeth commanded. If Flemeth got her way, she would set the whole world on fire. Morrigan cared nothing for the fate of humanity, she owed the world nothing, but she refused to be a pawn.

She pushed back the absurd feeling of guilt. Once Ashara killed Flemeth, and it was time to start the second phase of the plan, she would speak to the Dalish woman again. But, she couldn't tell her everything. For Ashara's sake, there were some things that were better off hidden. The Dalish woman was pregnant now; when the Blight ended, she would want to return to her own Clan, and continue her life. Morrigan would not be the one to take that from her. She owed her that much, at least.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Sha'nan - lit: Man of Vengeance; day to honor Elgar'nan<br>Elgar'nan - Father of the Creators; God of Vengeance  
>Mythal - Mother of the Creators; Goddess of Protection<br>Ma serannas - thank you  
>vulpasha - Tamlen's nickname for Ashara<br>lethallan - kinsman or close friend; used for females  
>Ma'elas - you're welcome<em>

_**Chant to Elgar'nan:**  
>Elgar'nan, Man of Vengeance<br>Father of the Creators  
>Father of Life<br>Your sword protects us  
>Your shield defends us<br>You keep Your children safe  
>On this day we honor<br>all that You have done for us  
>Your enemies are our enemies<br>Your kin are our kin  
>You are trapped but never broken<br>and one day You shall be free  
>Know that we, your children,<br>remain faithful and constant  
>We look towards the day<br>of Your freedom  
>when Your sword will strike<br>our enemies  
>and bring freedom to the elves<br>once more_

_This chapter took me a while to figure out, mostly b/c of the ritual. Some of you might even recognize part of it; it's taken from an ancient Druid ritual, performed before the eve of battle. I changed some of the customs, though. The blood and entrails of the sacrificed animal would be put in a bowl, and a chosen person of honor would carry it across burning coals, and bring it to the Druid, who would then look into the bowl and determine if the gods were pleased. But the part about each person getting at least one bite of the animal, and the part about how they sacrificed the animal quickly, are all true, from what I've read. The Druids didn't find pleasure in bringing pain to an animal, and if they had to sacrifice it, they made sure to do it quickly. I assume that the Dalish would behave in much the same way. The chant to Elgar'nan is not modeled after anything, just something I made up._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking. It really means a lot to me! :D_

_~Seika_


	23. Road of Hope

_As always, I am completely indebted to Kira Tamarion for her swift, and awesome, beta work, and her helpful suggestions. The whole section of the ritual is pretty much her idea, so major cookies and thanks go to her :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Road of Hope <strong>

Alistair stared at the bright, crackling fire, trying not to look at his fellow Wardens seated around it. He really didn't want to do this, but Redcliffe Castle was getting dangerously close. The moment he had dreaded, the moment he had been putting off, had finally arrived. They would reach Redcliffe Village tomorrow, and he would lose his chance to tell them. He _had_ to say something, he had to tell them. Arl Eamon would be sure to mention it at some point, and Alistair didn't want any of his fellow Wardens to be caught off guard. It would be better if they heard it from him.

Aric, the Orlesian dwarf, took a large drink of his ale, and belched loudly. "We're all 'ere, pike twirler. Say what you gotta say."

Alistair lifted his head, momentarily distracted from his nervousness. " 'Pike twirler'?"

The dwarf belched again, and wiped the back of his hand across his thick black beard. "Aye."

Kira covered her mouth, to hide her smile. "It appears that Oghren has been something of a bad influence on my friend."

Ashara snickered, but Kali tilted her head, looking a bit confused. "I don't get it; why do they call him pike twirler?"

Tamlen coughed into his fist, but Alistair thought it sounded suspiciously like laughter. "Oghren caught Alistair training away from the camp," Tamlen explained. "Said he was twirling his pike around and knocking into trees."

"I was _training_!" Alistair protested.

Aric chuckled. "Twirling yer little pike around?"

Alistair felt that they were insinuating something other than a pike, and he could feel his ears growing red, as everyone around him starting laughing.

After a time, Kira cleared her throat. "I believe that we had a purpose for gathering together, yes? Perhaps we should get to it?"

Alistair nodded with a roll of his eyes. "Yes; as humorous as it is, listening to everyone talk about this, I _do_ have something important to tell all of you." Everyone watched him curiously; he inhaled deeply. Now that it was time to tell them, he could feel butterflies dancing around in his stomach. "You all know that my mother was a maid, and that after she died Arl Eamon took me in and raised me, right?"

Kira looked as though she wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it; instead, she nodded silently. Alistair took another deep breath. "Well, the reason that he did that...was because my father was...King Maric."

A sharp silence greeted his words; Alistair studied the grass at his feet, unwilling to look up and see their expressions. Technically he had lied to all of them, when he told them that he didn't know who his father was. He hoped they would understand, but feared that they wouldn't.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Aric belched loudly. "So, yer the king's little squirt, are ya? Seems like _you_ outta be buyin' our booze from now on."

"You're King Maric's _son_?" Kali asked incredulously. Alistair lifted his head and looked at her; if he weren't so nervous, he would have laughed at how huge her eyes were. They took up almost half her face. "Wait!" She hesitated, as a thought struck her. "Doesn't that mean...that _you're_ the King of Ferelden, now?"

_ Great; just what I was hoping to hear. _Alistair shook his head vehemently. "No! Arl Eamon made sure that I knew that I would _never_ be king. That's fine by me; I don't _want_ to be king!"

Ashara lifted her chin and looked down her nose. "If you're called to a position of leadership, you don't get to _choose_ whether you accept it or not. It is the will of the Creators."

"No! Arl Eamon is our best option for king." He _had_ to be sure that they understood this. "He doesn't have royal blood, but his sister was Queen Rowan, and he's very popular with the people."

Kira laced her hands together in her lap; her dark blue eyes looked almost sympathetic, but her voice was still firm. "Alistair, if Arl Eamon is not of Theirin blood, then I do not believe he _can_ be king. I am new to Ferelden, but I would have to guess that the people would not accept a king without royal blood."

Alistair groaned inwardly; he didn't know much about politics, but he _did_ know that Kira had a point. The kings of Ferelden descended from the great hero, King Calenhad, the Silver Knight. He was the first King of Ferelden, the one who united the Clayne tribes into a nation. Since then, all the kings of Ferelden have been descended from him; the nobles might not accept a king without Theirin blood.

"Alistair, think of all the things that you could do, as king," Kali said. She looked at him as if he was crazy not to want such an honor. "You could have the chance to make this country a better place!"

Ashara made an impatient noise. "At the very least, you wouldn't abandon your men on the battlefield, and let the Blight ravage the country." She stood up, smoothing out her new mage robe, and looked at Alistair. "Well, there's nothing we can do now; we'll deal with this when we finally confront Loghain. I know almost nothing about human politics, but if your people want you to lead," she shrugged, "then you don't have a choice. To be the leader of your people is not something that you can choose."

She glided off, and it was clear that the discussion was over. Tamlen stood up, dusted himself off, and went with her, while Kali followed and Aric wandered over to Oghren's tent. Only Kira was left.

The two of them sat in silence for a time, after a while, Alistair sighed heavily. "Well, that went a bit better than I expected. At least no one was angry at me for keeping my birth a secret."

Kira chuckled. "I get the impression that your fellow Wardens, the two Dalish, at least, understand the need for secrecy." Her laughter died, and she took on something of a serious look. "I can understand that the thought of being a king is a troubling one, especially if you have not been trained for such a task, but do you not think that you could be a _better_ ruler than Loghain, at least?"

Alistair studied her thoughtfully; there was something about the turn of her head that made him suspicious. "You know, you didn't seem surprised by this. When I told everyone, you were the only one who didn't look the least bit surprised."

Kira smiled up at him like a naughty child. "Duncan and I were friends, do you not remember? He told me that he intended to recruit Maric's son into the Wardens, and when I met you, I knew exactly who you were. You look very much like the portraits of King Cailan I've seen."

"Why didn't you say something, then?"

She shrugged her pale shoulders. "It was not my place to comment on such things."

"Oh."

A slow smile spread across Kira's features. "Though I must say, you are far more attractive than Cailan was." She flashed him another smile, and fluttered off towards her tent.

Alistair was sure he felt his heart turn over.

oOo

Ashara stood in the courtyard of Redcliffe castle, and rubbed her throbbing temples. The morning sun was strong and bright; it's rays bounced off the courtyard, causing each strand of grass to shimmer with light, but she was too angry to notice. "I swear on the Creators, I'm about five undead creatures away from just blowing up this whole Mythal forsaken place."

Kali yanked her dagger from one of the corpse's heads, and looked at the Dalish woman. "How many more of these things do you think there are?"

Ashara sighed dramatically. "It depends on how strong the demon is."

Alistair wiped his sword on the grass, trying to clean the gunk off of it. "Do you really think that Connor's the one responsible for all of this? He's barely ten years old!"

Wynne dug around in her pack, searching for some poultices to clear up the cuts and bruises they all had from the constant fighting. "I don't believe that Jowan is capable of this chaos. He is utterly foolish, and easily misled, but I don't think that he would _intentionally_ do something like this."

Ashara nodded. "That only leaves Connor." She rolled her eyes. "See, this is what happens when you teach _da'len_ to fear magic. He wasn't given any sort of proper training, and now look at this mess." She looked at the fresh corpses of the walking dead that littered the courtyard. "He's possessed, which means that we have to take a break from fighting the Blight, and deal with this mess. You humans really know how to take a bad situation, and make it worse, don't you?"

Wynne scowled at her. "If he had been given a _proper_ education at the Circle, this would not have happened."

Ashara looked at the old woman. "Yes, because the Circle Tower was such a shining example of mages at their best." She lifted her chin. "We of the _Elvhenan_ have never unleashed a horde of demons upon the world, so stop acting like your Tower is superior to my people."

The old woman sputtered protests, but Ashara ignored her. She had more important things on her mind, like how many more undead creatures they would have to fight, or what they were finally going to do when they confronted the demon.

After a few weeks on the road, steering clear from the main paths and fighting random bandits that thought to rob them, they had finally reached Redcliffe Village, eager for a place to relax, only to find that walking corpses were attacking the place every night. Ashara's response to this had been to throw up her hands and try to leave then and there. They had a Blight to defeat, but no one in the country seemed to give a damn. Really, the _shemlen _world was pathetic.

She had planned on just leaving the village to defend itself, and move on. They would go back to the Wilds and confront Flemeth on Morrigan's behalf, then search for the Dalish; that was her plan. They had their mage and _Durgen'len_ allies; she didn't care about a village of stupid humans. But Alistair decided to throw a fit at the thought, and even Kali asked if they could stay to help; in the end, Ashara was forced to give in. But she wasn't happy about it, and she made sure that everyone knew it.

Keeping the village safe from the attack hadn't been _too_ terribly difficult. She scoured the village searching for more men to fight, bullying or threatening the _seth'lin_ ones into defending their homes, and set Sten and Zevran to work, training the men. Leliana set traps for the creatures, while Wynne prepared potions and poultices, and Morrigan looked into what was causing the undead to rise again.

In the end, it wasn't too terrible of a battle. A few men died, but such things happen. The best moment was when Sten saw a dwarf; Ashara couldn't recall his name, using a beautiful blade that was supposedly Qunari made. Sten swore that the blade was his, taken from his body after the darkspawn attacked him and his brothers, and demanded it back. The dwarf refused to part with it, so Ashara had used her famous charm to convince him. She didn't give a damn about the blade, but now that Sten carried it, he was in a far better mood than she had ever seen. That made things a lot easier for her.

They survived the night, and once morning came, Arl Eamon's brother, Bann Teagan, the man who organized the defense and helped to protect the young ones, told them of a secret passage into the castle. But before they could sneak in, the most annoying woman in Thedas decided to show up.

Her name was Lady Isolde, and Ashara had never before realized that a human voice could shriek at such a high pitch; her very words set Ashara's skin on edge. She claimed that a mage had infiltrated the castle, poisoned her husband on Loghain's orders, and unleashed a horde of demons upon them. But she was lying; even Kali had been able to tell she was lying.

But of course, she batted her eyes at Teagan, sobbing about how scared she was. Though he had his doubts, his desire to help his family left him no choice but to follow Isolde back to the castle, which left Ashara and her companions with the stupid task of sneaking in and trying to find the source of this obnoxious headache. They found the mage who poisoned the Arl, a very pathetic _shem _by the name of Jowan. He claimed that he was training Connor, in secret, and that he didn't know what started all the chaos. After Ashara got the information she wanted, she left him in the cell; he could be of no help to them, and by that point, her already fragile patience was practically gone.

Now, they stood in the courtyard of the castle, surrounded by corpses. Ashara gritted her teeth and walked up the stairs, towards the large double doors that Alistair said would lead them to the Great Hall. "If this isn't finished soon, I'm going to just set this whole damn castle on fire."

Morrigan chuckled. " 'Twould seem a much better use of our time." The witch wasn't any happier with this task than Ashara was, and made no effort to hide her disdain.

Ashara ignored her, and turned to Sten. "Kick the door open."

"Can't we just open it normally?" Alistair asked.

Ashara rounded on him. "If there are more corpses, or walking dead, or demons, or whatever else this stupid child has managed to summon, I'd rather catch it off guard. Sten, kick the door open."

The Qunari complied, and slammed his foot into the large wooden door. But there were no unnatural creatures waiting for them in the large hall. Instead, there was a young boy, surrounded by guards, with Isolde beside him, clapping his hands joyfully while Teagan pranced around the room.

The boy waved Teagan to the side, and smiled down at Ashara and her group as they approached. "I heard there was a commotion in the castle; I take it you are the cause?"

"Maker's breath, what's going on here?" Alistair demanded.

Ashara sighed and rubbed her forehead. Her headache was getting worse. "Exactly what I said; the boy is possessed by a demon, because his mother is an idiot."

The boy, Connor, squinted his eyes at Ashara. "These are the ones you told me about, aren't they, Mother? The ones who protected that stupid village?" He leaned forward. "The one is front is staring at me, but I can't see it well enough. What is it, Mother?"

Isolde's shoulders were slumped. "She...she is an elf, Connor. You've seen elves before; we have them here in the castle."

Connor laughed, and clapped his hands together. "Oh yes, I remember! I had their ears cut off, and fed to the dogs! Shall I send it to the kennels, Mother?"

_ Oh, he did __**not **__just say that._ Ashara gripped her new daggers tightly. "You know, I'm trying _really_ hard not to send this entire place up in flames, but you're making it extremely difficult."

"Please, Grey Wardens, do not hurt my son." Isolde fell to her knees, pleading.

"So, the boy has sundered the Veil." Morrigan chuckled. "Foolish child."

Isolde clutched her hands together. "He is not to blame! Conner just wanted to help his father!"

Ashara wasn't very impressed by Isolde's desperation. "So he made a deal with a demon to do so?" She raised an eye at Wynne. "You know, we Dalish don't have such problems." Petty of her, but she couldn't help but twist the knife just a little more.

"It was a fair deal!" Connor shouted. "Father is alive, just as I wanted!" He chuckled. "But we shall keep things civil, for now. You desire an audience? Tell us what it is you want."

Kali hesitantly stepped forward; Ashara nodded for her to speak. The little rogue was a bit nicer than Ashara, so maybe she could help ease the situation. "We came to help, Connor."

"To help yourself? To help me? To help Father? Which is it?"

Ashara could see the little rogue swallow nervously. "We...we came to help the people that you've terrorized."

"I was just having fun!" The possessed boy stomped his foot angrily. "We were _all_ having fun until you came and ruined my sport! But I'm not done playing! You spoiled my fun, and now you're going to die for it!"

He stomped his foot again, while the guards, and Teagan, slowly reached for their weapons. They rushed towards the group while Connor ran off to another room.

"Don't kill them!" Wynne shouted. "The demon is controlling them; they do not know what they're doing!"

Ashara had to acknowledge, despite herself, that the old woman was right. "Morrigan, will you paralyze them?"

The witch sighed, clearly indicating her displeasure, and thumped her staff to the ground; tendrils of white light floated from her and wrapped around the controlled men, holding them in place. When they were frozen and unable to move, Ashara walked to the first one and slammed the pommel of her dagger into the back of his neck; he instantly crumpled to the ground.

She looked up and saw Wynne glaring at her. "What? You said not to kill them. This way, we just knock them out for a while."

Tamlen chuckled, and looked at Zevran. "I wish all of our fights were this easy." The assassin shared in his amusement, and the two men walked from guard to guard, hitting them on the back of the neck and giggling when they collapsed.

"I really don't think that you two should be having so much fun with this," Kali remarked, but it made no difference. They continued to knock out the guards, and giggle like little boys.

Isolde was sobbing in the corner of the room, and Ashara was certain she felt her eye twitch from the obnoxious sound. Kira hooked her shield against her back, and sheathed her sword, before looking at the Dalish woman. "What are we going to do about the child?"

Ashara shrugged. She knew exactly what they would have to do; kill him. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of slaughtering a little boy, human or not, but what other option did they have?

Teagan started to groan, and slowly sat up.

"Teagan!" Isolde rushed to the man's side, and helped him to his feet. "Oh, I was so worried about you! This is all my fault!"

"Well, at least you admit it," Ashara mumbled irritably.

Teagan rubbed the back of his neck, and looked around. "Where is Connor?"

"I think he fled to his rooms." Isolde wrung her hands together. "Violence...scares him. I...I know that sounds strange, given what he has done, but he is not always the demon that you saw. Sometimes the real Connor comes out."

Teagan looked at Ashara and her companions. "Please, will someone tell me what's going on? I'm afraid I don't quite understand what's happened to Connor."

Ashara slid her daggers into the belt she now wore around her waist. The other guards were slowly coming to their senses; it looked like they were normal again. There probably wasn't going to be any more fighting; at least, not until they fought the demon.

"Oh, I can tell you what's going on." She pointed at the annoying woman. "Your brother's wife here was terrified of magic, because apparently your Chantry sees it as evil, and she's a stupid woman who can't think for herself. So she hired a blood mage to teach her son in secret, and hide it from her husband. But the blood mage was secretly working for Loghain, and instead of teaching her son in secret, he poisoned her husband, which is why your brother is sick. So Connor, being a little boy with no proper training, no idea what he was doing, desperate to help his father, believed a demon when it told him that it could heal his father. So now he's possessed, and the demon is trying to kill everyone."

Alistair sighed. "Way to be tactful, Ashara."

She shrugged. "He wanted the truth, so I gave it to him."

Teagan turned to his brother's wife with a scowl. "Is this true, Isolde?"

The annoying woman wouldn't meet his eyes. "If...if they found out that Connor had magic, they'd take him away! I just wanted him to learn enough, so he could hide it."

"Well, congratulations," Ashara said. "You are effectively the cause of Connor's possession, and the poisoning of your husband."

Isolde rounded on her. "How _dare_ you speak to me in such a way!"

Ashara lifted her chin haughtily. "If you don't like the way I speak to you, then we can leave you to deal with this problem yourself. We _do_ have a Blight to deal with, after all."

"You don't need to leave; _I_ at least, am grateful for your help," Teagan said. "But she _is_ right, Isolde. This is your fault."

"No!" Isolde stomped her foot, more like a petulant child, than an adult woman. "It is that mage! _He's_ the one who poisoned my husband; _he_ unleashed these monsters!"

"Your actions made this possible!" Teagan snapped. With a visible effort, he inhaled deeply and tried to calm himself. He turned to Ashara and her companions. "Please; how do we stop this?"

Ashara shrugged. "Connor is possessed; the easiest way to get rid of the demon is to kill him." She took care to hide her discomfort at having to kill a child. This was not the time for sentiment; he was a danger, and needed to be stopped.

Morrigan nodded. " 'Tis the easiest, and safest way, to rid us of this creature."

"No!" Isolde shouted. "You can not kill my son!" She looked at Ashara with tears in her eyes. "What if this was _your_ child? Tell me, could you kill your own son?"

Ashara would be more inclined to feel bad for Isolde, if the woman wasn't the cause of this whole mess. She felt pity for poor Connor, who didn't know any better, but not Isolde. She placed a hand on her stomach, where her baby was safely growing, getting stronger every day, until finally it would be welcomed into the world. She was roughly four months pregnant now. "I know better than to raise my child to fear his or her talents. If I did as you have done, I would have no one to blame but myself for the outcome."

Kali put her hand on Ashara's arm, and lowered her voice. "Isn't there some other way to kill the demon? A way that doesn't involve killing a little boy?"

"We can enter the Fade," Wynne suggested.

Teagan looked at them curiously. "The Fade? I thought that the demon was in Connor."

The old woman shook her head. "Not at all. The demon lives in the Fade, and commands the boy from there."

"So you can enter the Fade, then?" Isolde looked hopeful. "You can kill the demon without harming my boy?"

Morrigan practically sparkled with amusement; she was enjoying this a bit too much. " 'Tis _possible_ to do, but such a task requires lyrium, and I do not believe that we have any."

Ashara smoothed down the sleeves of her new robe, needing the movement to calm her agitation. There was another way to enter the Fade, a way that the Dalish used often, but she was hesitant to share it with these outsiders.

It involved herbs, oils, and a ritual, a ritual that would be considered by the Chantry, as a form of blood magic. But that was nothing but a simplified way to think of it; the ritual involved no demons, and only relied on blood as a source of power, in place of lyrium. While Ashara didn't want to give details, she admitted to herself that she had to say something; she didn't want to kill a little boy. "We don't need lyrium; there is a ritual I can perform to send someone into the Beyond, what you call the Fade."

The witch studied her curiously. "I have not heard of another way of entering the Fade, except for blood magic."

"Keepers, and their Firsts, are the only ones of the _Elvhenan_ who use it to enter the Beyond. It is difficult for us to get lyrium, so we had to learn of another way." Ashara looked around at her companions. "Tamlen, please grab my box of herbs from Bodahn's cart." He nodded and walked off, while she turned back to Morrigan. "You are going to have to be the one to enter the Beyond."

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Why can you not do it?"

"I have to perform the ritual, and we can't trust Wynne to do it; she's already brought _something_ back from the Beyond. That only leaves you."

"I _am_ standing right here, you know," Wynne said crossly.

Ashara ignored her. "Will you do it?"

Morrigan sighed, and nodded curtly. "I will, but consider this my payment for the favor I asked of you."

"Somehow, I get the feeling that dealing with an angry _Asha'belannar_ is going to require a lot more effort than traveling to the Beyond and slaying a demon, but fine."

oOo

A few hours later, with Connor locked in his room so that he couldn't cause more problems, the rest of their companions were at the evening meal that Teagan insisted that they eat. Morrigan and Ashara sat in a small room off the side of the Great Hall, to prepare and perform the ritual.

Morrigan nodded. "Shall we begin?"

Ashara knelt behind the witch. "When you fall asleep, I'll catch you, to keep you from falling into the mixture. This is how Keepers always enter the Beyond, with their First to help them. You're going to have to slow your breathing, as if you were meditating, and when you've reached a state of deep relaxation, hold your hand over the bowl; you should feel a slight tingling sensation on your skin. That's how you know it's working."

Having already placed the herbs and oils into a rough-hew bowl, Ashara took out a small vial of red liquid. She began with the spoken words, whispered in the ancient tongue of the _Elvhenan_, calling on Mythal for her protection, and Falon'Din and Dirthamen to act as guides. As she spoke the words, she poured the contents of the vial into the bowl, knowing that Morrigan would feel a cool breeze, and smell the dusky, fresh scent of the earth.

The witch nodded again, and closed her eyes. Ashara could hear her breathing coming in steady, and kept herself very still. It took time to reach a state of pure relaxation, and nothing must interrupt or distract her.

While she waited, Ashara's eyes flicked over the small room, which was filled with books, couches, and a desk in the corner. With all the fighting and constant movement, she hadn't really had the opportunity to study the inside of this _shemlen _lord's home. To her critical eyes, it looked cruel and unwelcome.

She looked at one of the stuffed couches against the wall; its legs were made from polished oak. By the streaks in the wood, Ashara could tell that the oak was once an ancient and mighty tree, a tree that had probably lived for hundreds of years. It should have lived hundreds more, if not for the human who chopped it down, and turned it into that...atrocity.

Ashara fought back the urge to shake her head in disgust. The Dalish took only what they needed, and no more. Nature was their kin; created by the same gods that created all living creatures, and the Dalish lived in a balance with nature, always giving back as much as they took. Nature provided the _Elvhenan_ with food, clothing, warmth, and shelter, while the Dalish gave gifts of offerings, and the Keepers gave their own energy to help the grass, plants, and trees flourish and grow.

But these humans, they took and took without ever giving anything back. This was the first time that Ashara had ever been in the home of a human. She had seen the Circle Tower, but that was a prison and didn't count, and she had been to Orzammar, where the _Durgen'len_ crafted beautiful statues and homes from the stone already around them, turning their world into stunning works of art.

Ashara hated the human world. They surrounded themselves with shadows of fears and tendrils of doubts. They appreciated nothing, and left only death in their wake. This human lord, Arl Eamon, lived in a stone building that kept out the cold, full of stuffed couches, glazed wood, and decorative paintings, yet the people in his village ate meager food, wore cheap armor, and barely bathed.

Morrigan stretched out her hand over the bowl, and slowly her body started to go limp. Ashara caught the witch by her shoulders and eased her to the ground. She put her hand to Morrigan's nose, and felt the gentle stir of her breath.

Once she was satisfied that Morrigan was in a deep sleep, Ashara stood up and walked out of the room. Her companions were all seated around a large table; most of them were eating, but she noticed that Tamlen was sitting stiffly in his chair, refusing to touch anything. _I wonder what's bothering him._

Ashara looked at Alistair, who was munching on huge chunks of cheese. "Morrigan is asleep on the floor. Will you move her to one of the couches?"

The templar cringed, and swallowed his food. "Can't you get someone else to do it? I'd rather not touch her; I don't need her creepy witch germs all over me."

Ashara rolled her eyes. "Fine. Sten, will you do it?" The Qunari nodded, and stood up from the table. "Make sure she's comfortable, since she's probably going to be sore when she wakes up. And when you're done, can you carry out the bowl of liquid? It needs to be poured out on the grass."

Isolde sat at the head of the table; she set down her spoon, and looked at Ashara. "There is no need. I will have one of the servants dispose of it." She snapped her fingers, and a timid looking elf boy stepped out from one of the side rooms.

"Y...yes, my Lady?"

Isolde never once looked at the boy. "Take the bowl, and empty it outside."

Tamlen's face darkened, and Ashara finally realized what was bothering him. The elf boy ducked his head and started to walk towards the room where Morrigan was asleep, but as he passed Ashara, she put a hand out and gently grabbed his upper arm, stopping him.

The boy looked up at her nervously; he couldn't be more than fourteen summers. He wasn't even old enough to be considered an adult. Ashara took a deep breath so that her voice would be mild, and looked at Isolde. "The contents of that bowl can be poisonous, if not handled properly."

Isolde shrugged, as if the life of her servant meant nothing to her. Ashara could feel the boy trembling beneath her hand, while Isolde went back to eating. "He will be careful."

Ashara refused to let the boy go. "There is no need for this _da'len_ to risk such a thing, when Sten is much bigger, and has a far less chance of being harmed."

The Qunari nodded again, and went towards the room without a word. Isolde scowled at Ashara. "I do not appreciate you contradicting me, in front of my servants."

Tamlen suddenly slammed his fist onto the table, and stood up swiftly. "_Ma'soren shemlen!_" His blue eyes were like chips of ice, as he glared at Isolde. "When an _elf_ is responsible for the saving the life of your child, a life you almost threw away in your own stupidity, one would think that you wouldn't flaunt your _Elvhen_ slaves in front of them!" He kicked his chair back, almost knocking it over, and stormed from the room.

Isolde sat in stunned silence, and Ashara felt a burning rage slowly creep up her face. It took all of her self-control to force it back. She let go of the boy's arm, and he promptly ran off, as if terrified of a punishment. Ashara glared at Isolde with such cold fury that the woman was forced to look away. "You should watch what you eat, _Shem._ If I know how to enter the Beyond, using herbs grown in the forests, imagine how many poisons I know of."

It was an empty threat; she wouldn't kill the woman just because she was angry, but Isolde didn't need to know that. Ashara turned away from the table and followed after Tamlen, out of the hall and into the courtyard.

It was clear of corpses; Ashara bitterly wondered how many _Elvhen_ slaves it had taken to haul off the dead bodies. Tamlen stood in the corner, punching a practice dummy; she could hear his grunts of anger as she walked down the stairs.

He turned as he heard her approaching; his face was twisted into anger. "Can you _believe_ that woman? The whole time you were in the room with Morrigan, she had her _Elvhen_ slaves bringing out meals and bowing to her like she's some kind of goddess!" He turned back to the dummy and delivered another punch. "I couldn't stand another minute of it! These _shemlen_ are worse than _hahren_ Paivel said they were!"

Ashara nodded, and looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set, and the sky was ablaze with beautiful, vibrant colors. She sighed deeply. "I don't know why our cousins accept this sort of treatment. Don't they long for freedom, among equals?"

"They accept it, because they don't know any better."

Ashara and Tamlen turned around at the quiet voice, to see Kali peeking her head around the large door; she had opened it so quietly that neither of them had heard her. The little rogue stepped out and walked down the stairs. Her green eyes were darkened with sorrow. "We're raised to believe that this is how life is. We're never taught to believe anything different." She shifted, and stared at her feet. "Until I met you two, I was no different from them."

The anger Ashara had felt drained from her, to be replaced with feelings of guilt. She had never realized how sad the lives of the flat-ears really were. The _Elvhenan_ saw them as pathetic and weak, elves that turned their backs on their rich history, and allowed the humans to treat them like animals. She had never stopped to think that perhaps they were elves to be pitied; who didn't know any better.

The realization only served to make Ashara feel more determined to end the tyranny of _shemlen_ rule. She lifted her chin. "Once we've beaten the Archdemon, everyone will know what the _Elvhen_ are capable of, and we're going to do everything we can to stop the _shemlen_ from treating us like inferior beings."

Kali looked up at her. Her eyes were warily hopeful, like a little girl hoping for a treat, but fearing a beating. "Do you really think that we can make the world a better place for our people?"

"With Mythal's help, anything's possible, _lethallan_." Ashara touched the intricate tattoo around her neck, the swirling cluster of vines and leaves that wrapped around her throat. "But I _do_ think that we were chosen for a reason. I think that we are our people's greatest chance for a better life."

She looked at Tamlen, who nodded firmly, and at Kali, who seemed to stand a bit straighter. Maybe Ashara was just seeing things, but the evening sun seemed to suddenly burn just a little brighter.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>da'len - childchildren  
>seth'lin - literally: thin blood; weak<br>Durgen'len - literally: Children of the Stone; dwarves  
>Asha'belannar - literally: woman of many years; Flemeth<br>Ma'soren shemlen! - You stupid human; 'soren' is considered an extreme insult  
>hahren - elder, used as a sign of respect<br>lethallan - kinsman or friend; used for a female_

_In case no one noticed, I really don't like Isolde. But, she gave me the opportunity to really show the first time that Ashara and Tamlen see elven servants in the human world. They saw the incident at the Denerim alienage, but it didn't really click that elves just accept being treated like slaves. _

_I really do need to thank Kira again, for her help with the ritual. It always seemed to me that the Dalish would have another way to enter the Fade, since the Chantry controls the lyrium trade, and they don't really have much access to the dwarves. Kira helped me look into it, and provided me with the idea to use the blood magic. If it wasn't for her, I'd still have Ashara using hemlock, and trying not to poison herself XD_

_Thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, or requesting alerts! You guys are awesome!_


	24. Epiphany

_Many, many thanks to Kira Tamarion, for her amazing beta skills, and her patient corrections of all the names I accidentally misspelled. _

**Warning**: The end of this chapter contains a portion that implies rape. Ashara never comes out and specifically says what happened, but if such subjects bother you, skip the last part.

* * *

><p><strong>Epiphany<strong>

Kali sat in the large, stuffed couch in her room, staring at the fire, letting the warmth envelop her. She felt drained, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to sleep. Each time she tried, she ended up staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Eventually, she gave up trying.

Drake padded over from his spot by the foot of her bed, hopped up on the couch, and flopped down across her lap. He was such a big dog, he almost crushed her legs, but she didn't have the heart to push him away. The last time she did, he walked off in quite a huff; it took her almost an hour of apologies, and a treat, to make him forgive her.

Besides, she could really use something to hug right now. She sighed deeply, and wrapped her arms around Drake's thick neck, pressing her face against his scratchy fur.

The group had been in Redcliffe for a few days now, planning their next move. Morrigan had managed to kill the demon in the Fade, and Connor was back to normal, but Arl Eamon was no better. He still laid in his bed, breathing deeply, his eyes closed, as if deaf to the world. Lady Isolde was now convinced that only the Urn of Sacred Ashes, the ashes of Andraste, could cure him; she begged them to try and find it for her. Ashara had had no idea what the Sacred Ashes were, but even after she learned about their miraculous healing powers, she refused to help.

"In case no one has noticed, we have a _Blight_ to end," she protested. "We don't have time to run all over Ferelden, searching for a myth that might not even exist!"

It wasn't until Bann Teagan quietly took Ashara and Kali aside, and calmly admitted how much they needed Eamon to wake, that Ashara reluctantly agreed.

The Dalish woman still wasn't getting along very well with Lady Isolde. She avoided the woman's presence whenever she could, and Kali had a strong suspicion that Ashara and Tamlen were secretly talking to the Lady's elven servants, trying to convince them to abandon the castle to seek out the Dalish.

But Ashara _did_ have a grudging sort of respect for Teagan. He was always polite, always respectful, and treated the elven servants with the same courtesy that he gave his brother's wife. He ensured that Bodahn had plenty of supplies in his cart, and even went out of his way to help his men ready the castle for the arrival of the Grey Wardens' army. With all that he had done to help them, Ashara said she felt obligated to return the favor, especially since curing Arl Eamon _would_ help them fight Loghain.

Kali couldn't bring herself to care about the reasons, she was just grateful that they were staying in one place for a few days. Without the constant traveling, she was able to sit inside of her room, away from everyone else, and think.

Today was the anniversary of Mama's death. Kali closed her eyes, and held on tighter to Drake. She had been withdrawn and quiet all day; Ashara and Zevran had watched her curiously, but she just shook her head in response to their questioning looks. Neither of them pressed her on the issue, but she could feel their unspoken concerns, as palpable as if they spoke them out loud. Finally, in an attempt to avoid them altogether, she simply hid herself in her room.

On this day, five years ago, she had watched every horrid moment of Mama's death. She had seen the light go out of her beautiful eyes. Every torturous, painful detail was etched into her memories; she remembered it like it was yesterday. She remembered seeing Mama's golden hair, dripping in blood. She remembered the waxy feel of Mama's skin, when her body went cold.

There was a light knock on the door, and Kali jerked her head up, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. "Come in."

Zevran poked his head around the door, and slipped into the room. He shut the door, and watched her silently, as if trying to think of something to say. Kali frowned. "Is there something you needed?"

He shrugged, and walked towards her slowly. "You were so quiet today, that your fearless leader and I have grown concerned. She asked if I would check on you."

"Oh." Kali looked at the fire, feeling guilty at having worried Ashara. But what was she supposed to say? The group had a lot of things to deal with, and Kali didn't want to burden them with thoughts of her mother's death. "I...I'm fine."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, there is no reason to lie, my little Warden." Zevran sat on the couch, opposite of her. Drake lifted his head, studied Zevran for a second, and hopped down from Kali's lap to go curl up in front of the fire. "If you do not wish to tell me, that is fine. But anyone can see that you are not all right."

Kali lowered her head, quickly repentant. "I'm sorry, Zevran."

"You do not need to apologize." He studied her thoughtfully. "But something _is_ troubling you, and if you wish to talk, I am here. That is what friends are for, no?"

She hesitated. Father had been terrified to ever speak of Mama, and Kali had learned to keep what had happened a secret, buried deep in her heart, a silent ghost she was never allowed to acknowledge.

Ashara was the only one that managed to break the spell of silence. During their months together, Kali had learned to enjoy sharing stories about Mama, and Ashara had a way of quietly listening, to just let Kali talk without feeling the need to offer any sort of sympathy, or condolences. The Dalish woman managed to make Kali feel comfortable about the past, but that didn't make the memories any less painful.

Kali sighed, and stared at the fire. "I've been...thinking. It's been five years since Mama died, and I've just been thinking about what happened to her."

Zevran watched her carefully. "Would you care to discuss it?"

She pulled her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her arms around her slim legs. She'd never told anyone the details of what happened, not even Ashara. Kali could have stopped the murder, if only she tried. If she had done something, maybe Mama would still be alive.

"I...I hid." She buried her face against her knees, so that she couldn't see Zevran's face. She didn't want to see the accusation in his eyes. "Mama and I were in one of the back alleys, walking towards the alienage, and we saw two guards coming towards us. She told me to duck behind one of the barrels; I could tell that something was wrong with her, she had a weird look on her face, but I did what she said."

Her lower lip trembled; she could hear her voice quavering, but couldn't seem to stop talking. Once Kali started, the words just tumbled out. "The men started smiling when they saw Mama, and told her to come with them, that they were going to have fun but...but they weren't trying to arrest her, and I couldn't understand why Mama looked so nervous. She refused to go, and they tried to grab her, but she yelled and started fighting..."

Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. She sniffed. "Mama only had a small knife with her, and the guards were heavily armed. I...I watched them kill her. I could have helped her, I could have distracted them, or done _something_, but I was too scared. They...hit her in the face, and she stopped moving." She couldn't hold back her tears any longer. "Then they just left her there, like it was nothing. When they were gone, I ran to her, but she could barely open her eyes. I screamed and screamed for help, but no one came, so I carried her back to the alienage." She inhaled deeply, trying to push back the resentment she had buried for so long. "And then, Father...he...he acted like it was Mama's fault! He told me that Mama should have done what the humans wanted!" She chocked on a sob.

"How old were you?" Zevran asked quietly.

"Fourteen."

She felt strong arms wrap around her, and stiffened slightly at the contact. But Zevran didn't seem to care; he pulled her towards him, and folded her in his arms, so that her head rested against his chest. She felt nervous; never had she been so pressed against a man. But a part of her felt so safe by the contact, that before she could stop herself, she had buried her face against his tunic, and was crying.

She cried all the tears that she had never been allowed to shed, while he silently, gently, stroked her hair. She could hear herself whispering over and over, "I just let it happen."

After a time, when her tears were spent, and her sobs were growing quiet, Zevran pressed his lips against her hair. "You know that your mother would not blame you for what happened."

Kali shook her head, and pulled back. Zevran didn't understand. Mama had been her best friend, the most important person in her life. _And I hid, when she needed me the most._ "I _let_ her die, Zevran." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Zevran put a gentle finger to her lips. "You were _fourteen_. If you had tried to stop it, or alerted the guards to your presence, _you_ could have died, as well. Your mother would have known that. From all that you have said about her, your mother was a woman who would have gone to her death willingly, as long as you were safe."

Kali continued to shake her head, unable to say anything. She _knew_ that Mama didn't blame her; she knew that Mama would have done anything to keep her daughter safe. But that didn't make her guilt any less real.

Zevran seemed to see the hesitation on her face; he crooked a finger under her chin, and made her look at him. "No one blames you for what happened. You must learn to forgive _yourself, mi querida._"

Strangely, Kali was starting to feel a bit better. Between crying, and confessing what happened, she felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was the first time she had ever been able to give voice to the horrors of what happened, and with each word she spoke, she felt like a small portion of her sorrow was ebbing away.

She also became acutely aware of how close she was to Zevran. Her face was barely inches away from his; she forced herself to look away from his hazel eyes. "What does _mi...qu...que..._well, whatever you said. What does that mean?"

Zevran didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled her face closer to his, and lightly brushed her lips with his own. The contact caught her off guard, and she immediately froze. But, it kind of felt nice, and she slowly relaxed. She closed her eyes, and let his lips caress hers, like a gentle feather lightly dancing on her skin.

Barely aware of what she was doing, she slowly parted her lips, which Zevran took as permission to explore the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He pressed closer to her, and deepened the kiss. This was far different from the times that she had kissed Jandar. He would hold her to him roughly, and assault her lips with his mouth and tongue. She had decided that she didn't really like kissing. It was too wet, and sloppy.

But this was different. Zevran lightly wove his fingers through her cropped hair; she felt a strange, enjoyable shiver run down her spine. This was sweet, slow, and passionate. She found herself not wanting to move away, as Zevran pulled her tighter in his arms.

After a time, he slowly broke off the kiss, and studied her face intently, as if trying to read her thoughts. She had no idea what to say to him, and felt a rush of heat creep up her face; she could barely manage to look him in the eyes. What did someone say after such a kiss? She had no real experience to go on, except for her time with Jandar, and those kisses had been quick, something to be ashamed of, and hidden from everyone else.

But this seemed...natural. Instead of feeling ashamed, or guilty, all she felt was a deep sense of embarrassment, and nervousness. Her ears felt like they were on fire.

Zevran chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate. He ran a thumb over her cheek. "You are so lovely when you blush, my little Warden."

Of course, that made her blushes even deeper. Suddenly "my little Warden" seemed to mean more than just a simple nickname. She felt tongue-tied, unable to think of anything to say. But Zevran didn't seem to expect her to say anything. His smile widened. "Again?"

She felt her own smile slowly spread across her face. Still unable to find the words to respond, she wordlessly nodded. When Zevran moved to kiss her again, she closed her eyes, in awe of this strange, new feeling that she was experiencing.

oOo

"So, Kali's feeling better now?" Ashara asked, as she and Zevran walked down the stairs, towards the dungeon. It was early morning, too early for most of their companions to be up, including Tamlen; when Ashara tried to wake him, he grumbled something incoherent and went right back to sleep. Despite the early hour, this needed to be done. _Preferably before that horrid _shemlen_ woman wakes up, and starts shrieking again._

Zevran nodded, trying unsuccessfully to restrain his smile. "She is. Yesterday was the anniversary of her mother's death, but she is feeling much better now."

Ashara hesitated on the steps; there was something about the way Zevran was smiling that made her wary. "Why are you so smug?" She crossed her arms and glared at him, the very picture of a suspicious woman. "What did you do to her?"

Zevran turned around, and looked up at her. He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but he couldn't seem to take that smile from his face. "It is enough to say that I have learned to cherish her company."

"Which is just a clever way of avoiding the question."

The assassin chuckled, but seemed disinclined to say anything more. Ashara sighed, and continued down the stairs. "Fine. I'll let it go, for now. Just be careful, all right?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sure you can understand why. Kali's not like most of the women you've been with." Ashara was well aware of the blooming romance between the assassin and the little rogue; she tried to tell herself that Kali wasn't some fragile little doll; she was an adult who was capable of making her own decisions. But that didn't seem to stop Ashara from acting like an overprotective mother.

For once, Zevran didn't try to turn the comment into some sort of joke. He nodded solemnly, and his eyes held a strange sort of seriousness. "I assure you, that I have no intentions of giving her yet another reason to frown."

Ashara nodded. It was good enough; she could feel the ring of truth behind his words. Besides, if she tried to interfere, it would only cause problems for Kali. The poor girl needed some happiness in her life; Ashara would simply observe quietly from a distance, and let the relationship progress naturally. If Kali came to ask for advice, Ashara would be there to give it to her. _And I will always make sure to show her a supportive face; otherwise she'll end up confused and frustrated._

The stairs led them to a small room, where Leliana and Teagan were waiting for them, standing next to the door that would lead to the dungeon. Leliana hopped from one foot to the other eagerly. After months of travel, Ashara had come to realize that despite her pious ways, the Sister loved intrigue. "Bann Teagan has the keys to Jowan's cell."

Teagan nodded, and held up the ring of keys, but his face looked troubled. "We already know that Jowan was hired by Loghain; what else to you wish to learn from him?"

Ashara smoothed down the sleeves of her robe. "I want him to tell me anything he knows. We're going to have to confront Loghain at some point, so we're going to need as much dirt as we can find."

Leliana nodded. "If we are to convince the Ferelden nobles to send their men to aid the Grey Wardens against the Blight, we must first find some way to prove Loghain's treachery, so that they no longer trust him."

Teagan shifted uncomfortably. "What if Jowan demands that we release him, in exchange for information? I can not allow that to happen."

Ashara smiled mischievously. "That's why I've asked Leliana and Zevran to join us. If Jowan decides to be uncooperative, they can...persuade him to talk."

Teagan nodded, and the four of them walked into the dungeon. The last time Ashara had been here, she had been too preoccupied to take notice of her surroundings. She hadn't had time to see how truly disgusting the place was. The smell of mold, dirt, and bitter bile, assaulted her senses, and the chilly, damp air made her grateful for the long sleeves of her robe.

Jowan was locked in one of the smallest cells, and Ashara watched him struggle to his feet as they approached. His robe hung loosely around his bony frame; it looked as though he had lost weight rapidly in a short amount of time. She could see dried blood on his hands and face, and a fresh bruise over his left eye, contrasting sharply with the unhealthy pallor of his skin.

He inched away from the bars, towards the back wall, as if afraid they would hurt him. "What do you want? I've told you everything I know!"

Ashara stood before the cell, hands on her hips, and studied the wraith of a man before her. Perhaps she should have felt sorry for him. He had been beaten, starved, forced to sit in this horrid cell, and he was clearly ashamed of poisoning Eamon. But she didn't have it in her to feel pity for an idiotic _shemlen_ mage who ran from the bonds of the Circle, only to pine away about his rash decision and sob about how stupid he had been.

Leliana stepped forward, with something of a hard look in her eyes. She didn't look like a pious Sister of the Chantry anymore; she looked dangerous. "We want to know who hired you to poison Arl Eamon."

"I told you! It was Loghain!"

The Sister shook her head. "Loghain is not stupid. He would not have personally spoken to you. He would have used an agent."

Jowan slowly sank to the floor; he looked miserable. "No, the regent didn't personally come to me. It was an agent of Teryn Loghain's right hand man, Rendon Howe."

Ashara raised an eyebrow, and looked at Leliana. "Who is Rendon Howe?"

Teagan inhaled sharply. "He is a snake of a man. Rendon Howe is the Arl of Amaranthine. When the Cousland family were slaughtered like animals, Loghain, instead of investigating their deaths, named Howe the Teyrn of Highever."

Ashara frowned. All these titles, ranks, and positions of the _shemlen_ world were so damn confusing. Not for the first time, she longed for the simplicity of the Clans. "So...this Howe killed the Cousland family, just to take their home?"

"He wanted the title," Leliana explained. "A Teyrn is a higher status than an Arl. Teyrn's are second only to the King of Ferelden, and the title holds much power and wealth."

Teagan nodded. "There are only two Teyrns in Ferelden; the Teyrn of Gwaren, which is the title held by Loghain, and the Teyrn of Highever, which once belonged to the Cousland's. But now Howe was awarded that title."

Ashara shook her head, still a bit confused. Among the Clans, it was simple. The Keeper led the Clan, and took care of the Clan's spiritual needs, while the Chief Hunter protected them and looked out for their physical needs. Everyone within the Clan helped one another; everyone had a place. The Creators called someone to a position of honor; it was not something that the Dalish ever fought over.

She turned back to Jowan. "Do you know the name of the man who spoke to you?"

Jowan shook his head. "It was a woman, who came to see me, but she never told me her name. The only thing I know about her was that she was Orlesian."

Leliana suddenly looked interested. "Orlesian? What did she look like?"

Jowan frowned, trying to remember. "She was very pretty, with dark brown hair. She was dressed like a Lady, and held herself like a Queen, but her eyes were cold. She told me that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, and if I poisoned him, Loghain would speak to the Circle on my behalf, and convince them to let me return."

Ashara was watching Leliana closely; the Sister's eyes were widened to almost twice their size. "Do you know this woman, Leliana?"

"It is _possible_ that he is referring to Marjolaine."

"Who is Marjolaine?"

Leliana hesitated. "She...she was my bard mentor, in Orlais."

Zevran's eyes lit up with amusement. "Ah, so _that_ is where you learned your skills. You were not the simple minstrel you said you were." He seemed to be fighting back laughter.

Ashara sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. _By the Creators, is __**everyone **__lying about who they really are? First Alistair is the son of the king, and now Leliana is a bard._ She had heard plenty of tales of the bards, taken from stories of the Dalish that camped near the borders of Orlais. Bards were spymasters, who sold their skills to anyone willing to pay them.

She lifted her head, and looked at Zevran. "Since we're clearing the air, what about you? Are you hiding anything? Are you going to tell us that you're really the King of Antiva?"

The assassin seemed to find the question funny. "I assure you, no secrets here."

Leliana frowned. "We must find this woman, and see if she really is Marjolaine. If she is truly working for Rendon Howe, she will have kept papers detailing all of his crimes. Perhaps they can link to Loghain."

"How can you be sure?" Ashara asked.

"I know her. She always believed that those she worked for could easily turn against her at any moment; she will have kept a record of everything she has done on the order of another, in case she should ever need to prove it."

Ashara nodded thoughtfully. "Where would she be?"

Leliana spread her hands. "It seems plausible that she would be in Denerim, if she is working for Howe. But I can not be sure."

"Well, we have to go to Denerim anyway, to look for this Brother Genitivi. Once we're there, will you be able to find her?"

The Sister nodded. "Once we are in Denerim, I have a few contacts that I can speak with. They will know if she is there, or not, and where to look."

Jowan struggled back to his feet, and came to the front of the cell. "What about me? I've told you everything I know; can't you let me go?"

Teagan frowned. "You poisoned my brother. We will hold you for Eamon to decide. If Eamon dies, your fate is sealed."

Ashara was barely paying attention; she was already walking out of the dungeon. She had all the information she needed, and didn't really care one way or the other about Jowan. Leliana and Zevran followed behind her.

"Alas, my skills weren't needed after all," Zevran sighed wistfully.

Ashara ignored him. "Leliana, I need you to write to Bhelen and Irving. Tell them to start sending their men to Redcliffe castle as soon as possible. We need to get our army ready, and Teagan has agreed to help them prepare while we find the _Elvhenan_, and search for the Ashes."

Leliana nodded. "I will do so right away. Where are we to go next?"

Ashara started up the stairs. "We must take a brief detour through the Wilds, to handle some unpleasant business, and then we'll head to Denerim. But on our way, I want to travel through the Brecilian Forest; the weather is slowly starting to warm, and we should be able to find at least one of the Clans." She frowned thoughtfully. "After they agree to aid us, all we need to do is find some way to cure Arl Eamon, and then we can let him handle Loghain."

Zevran looked interested. "What are we going to do about the darkspawn?"

Ashara's lips parted into a feral smile. "Once Loghain is dealt with, and our army is gathered, we're going to take Aric's advice, and find the darkspawn horde. We'll bring the fight to them, and lure the Archdemon out, on a ground of _our_ choosing. Then, we can kill it."

oOo

Kali wandered aimlessly through the darkened halls of Redcliffe castle. Ashara had informed them that they were to set out for the Wilds tomorrow, so everyone should get as much rest as they could. Kali tried to comply; after they went to the Wilds they would be back to gathering their allies, sleeping on the hard ground, and fighting. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to sleep.

Zevran has kissed her. The memory of his lips against hers, the way his fingers had danced through her hair, still brought a deep flush to her cheeks. It had been a pleasurable sensation, much sweeter than the times she had kissed Jandar.

The thought of Jandar made Kali hesitate. She hadn't really thought about him in weeks, and that confused her. _I thought that I was in love with him._ She thought...well, she didn't really know what she thought. He was married to Nesiara now, and nothing could change that. Was he happy with his wife? Or was he still waiting for Kali?

When Duncan took her away from the alienage, she hadn't been able to say anything to Jandar. There had been no time to say good-bye, or even to tell him that she would miss him.

Kali stopped, and nibbled her thumbnail. _**Do **__I miss him?_ At first, she did. At first, she had thought about him all the time, and worried that he would move on without her. But then, the battle at Ostagar occurred, and there had been no time to think of anything other than survival. After that, she kept dreaming about blood and death, and couldn't seem to remember what Jandar even _looked_ like. She started thinking more and more of Mama, and soon stopped thinking about Jandar altogether.

Then, Zevran attacked them, and Ashara decided to spare his life. At first, Kali thought that the assassin was funny, a welcome distraction from all the death that she saw, all the time. He managed to turn everything into a joke, and always said something that made her laugh.

Somehow, that slowly changed. She started to enjoy the sound of his laughter, and noticed how his hair seemed to gleam in the sunlight. She found herself wanting to be near him; she wanted him to notice her. She even secretly liked it when he made her blush.

_Am I just shallow?_ Is that all it was? Did she just move on from Jandar, to the first man that she saw? Were her feelings for Zevran just a desperate need to be near _someone_?

Zevran was much different than Jandar. When she was with the assassin, she found herself smiling more than she ever thought possible. He made her laugh, but there was a depth to him that he didn't show very often. She liked asking his opinion on things; she enjoyed listening to him talk. _And he's handsome; I can't deny that._

She bit her bottom lip. Mama would have liked Zevran. She would have found the assassin's personality amusing, and she would have teased him about his tattoos. But, she would have understood his past better than anyone.

Frustrated, Kali continued down the silent hall, until she noticed a light, flickering gently in the large library. Curious as to who was still up at this late hour, she stepped into the room. Ashara sat at a large table, reading from a book by the light of a single candle. She looked up, and smiled when she saw Kali.

"You can't sleep either, _lethallan_?"

Kali sat down at the table, opposite of Ashara. "No, I can't. Why are you up? Shouldn't you be resting, especially with your baby?"

The Dalish woman shrugged. "I've been having nightmares."

"About the Blight?"

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with darkspawn. My dreams are harassed with...terrifying voices that shout at me. Some of them are calm, and they tell me to be patient, while others are angry, but they scream so loud that I can't understand them." She noticed Kali's wide-eyed look, and waved a white hand dismissively. "It's nothing. I'm probably just worried about the baby, and my dreams are expressing that."

Kali tilted her head curiously. "You're worried about your baby?" It seemed like such a strange thought. Ashara was _never_ worried. She was always strong, always confident.

The Dalish woman smiled sadly. "Of course I'm worried, _lethallan_. My child was conceived _after _I became a Grey Warden, and I don't know how the darkspawn taint might affect it." She lowered her violet eyes, and for the first time Kali could see how nervous Ashara truly was. "Kira said that she only knows of one woman who had a son after she became a Grey Warden, and that the child was fine, but there's no way to tell for sure."

Kali felt a deep sense of sadness; she hadn't even thought of how the darkspawn taint might affect a growing baby. She wanted to offer words of comfort, assurances that the child would be okay, but it would mean nothing. She _couldn't_ promise that everything would be fine. "Ashara?" She waited, until Ashara lifted her gaze, and looked at her. "Whatever happens, I'll be there with you. You and Tamlen won't have to deal with this alone, okay?"

Ashara smiled. "I know, _lethallan_. And I am grateful for that."

Silence settled over the two women for a few moments, before Ashara sighed, and closed the book she had been reading. "So, tell me why _you_ can't sleep. You might not be pregnant, but you _still_ need your rest. Tomorrow, we go back to long and exhausting days.

Kali nodded. "I know. I just...I can't seem to stop thinking."

"Oh? What about?" Ashara looked intrigued.

"Um..." Kali squirmed in her seat; she couldn't meet Ashara's eyes. "Zevran came to talk to me last night, well he said that you asked him too, and he...well...he..."

"He...what?"

Kali forced herself to lift her chin, and look at Ashara. _I have nothing to be ashamed of. _"He...he kissed me."

"I see." Ashara folded her hands on the table in front of her. "Did you...want him to?"

Kali felt her cheeks redden. It was embarrassing to talk about, but at the same time she felt a bursting need to tell _someone_, to share her happiness and explain her confusion. "Well, at first I was really surprised, but then I...liked it." By now she felt like her ears were on fire. "I...let him kiss me again."

Ashara studied Kali for a moment, but then a wide smile broke out on her beautiful features. "I'm happy for you, Kali." When the little rogue continued to shift, Ashara's smile faded. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, I...I don't know." She frowned, trying to figure out the tumult she felt. "I used to think that I was in love with Jandar. When that demon sent us to the Fade, it made me dream that I was married to him. But, I'm sure you remember the wedding, when we first met."

Kali dropped her head; she and Ashara had never spoken of the failed wedding, when Vaughan had kidnapped all the women. "Even though _my_ marriage didn't happen, Jandar's did. He and Nesiara are married now, and when I think about that, it...it doesn't make me sad anymore. I...want him to be happy, even if it's with another woman. I'm not bothered by it anymore." She shook her head; confused at the way her thoughts were going. "But when I'm with Zevran, I feel...different. It's not like when I was with Jandar, but I don't know why. I'm worried that I just forgot about Jandar only when another man showed up, and made me feel special. What if...I mean if Zevran leaves, what if I end up forgetting about him too? What if I only _think _my feelings are deep?_"_

Ashara was silent for a moment, as if considering what she wanted to say. After a time, she inhaled deeply. "There are different degrees of love, Kali. Some loves are the kinds you have for your family, or very close friends. Some are nothing more than girlish crushes that fade as time goes on. And some are much deeper, and they never falter."

"But how do you tell the difference? I mean, you and Tamlen have been together your whole lives, haven't you? So, you've never been with anyone else, right?"

Ashara shook her head, chuckling softly. "Not at all! I've _known_ him my whole life, but we've only been promised to mate for about two years."

"Really?" Kali had just assumed that they had always been in love. "So, how did you know that he was the one you loved?"

"I've been sweet on other boys, but none of them made me feel the way that he did." She shrugged. "I can't tell you if you're really in love with Zevran; that's something you have to learn on your own. But I _can_ tell you that from what you've said, it sounds like your caring for Jandar was a crush, that would have faded, even if you _did_ marry him."

Kali smiled; Ashara's words made her feel better. _I don't want to lose Zevran because of my own fears. _"So, did you always like Tamlen, then?" She was eager to hear how those two finally fell in love. Kali was a sucker for love stories.

Ashara smiled wistfully. "I'd always found him attractive, but he was just my friend. I suppose you could say that I was sweet on him, but as I grew older he made me nervous, and I was confused about that. Besides, I thought that he saw me as nothing more than a friend, so I tried to put him out of my mind. I wasn't about to waste my time pining after someone who didn't return my feelings. So I let other boys of the Clan court me, including his best friend, Fenarel, and I never bothered to wonder how Tamlen was feeling." Her face clouded. "And then...Tianna's death almost separated us completely."

Kali looked at Ashara closely. "You don't...talk much about Tianna. What...what happened to her? I know you said that humans killed her, but...what happened?"

Ashara inhaled sharply. "I abandoned her, that's what happened." When Kali didn't say anything, she bit the inside of her cheek. "Tianna...loved to work with herbs. Cooking, healing, it didn't matter. She always said it was like alchemy; you take two different herbs, add them together, and come up with something new. She had no magical ability, so she couldn't be made First, but she was so enamored by them, that the Keeper let her train with Merrill and I, while we studied the use of herbs in the forest."

Her eyes were unfocused; it looked to Kali like she was seeing the past. "Tianna and I always strayed from the camp; we made it a game to see how many plants we could find, and tried to find one that the Keeper had never heard of. One day, I was held up with Master Ilen, and Tianna was supposed to wait for me, but she was young, and impatient, and she thought that since she wasn't going far, it would be fine to go alone. By the time I was able to meet her, she was nowhere to be found. No one in the Clan knew where she was, so we went searching for her, but she was already gone."

Ashara closed her eyes against the memory. "We found signs of a struggle, and tracked her to a nearby _shemlen_ village. The men who took her had her hidden on the outskirts, where the rest of the _shemlen_ wouldn't see what they were doing."

"What did you do?" Kali whispered.

"We...killed them. Tamlen told me to take Tianna away, while he and the hunters slaughtered everyone." Ashara's eyes were as hard as gems. "Men, women, even children, it didn't matter. They killed them all, and then set the entire village on fire. I carried Tianna out into the forest, where she could be around the familiar trees of her beloved Sylaise. I spent all of my energy trying to heal her, but it wasn't enough. Her...her body was too broken." Ashara's normally confident, controlled voice wavered slightly. "She died...in my arms."

Kali stared at the table in front of her. _She watched Tianna die, just like I watched Mama._ "How...how do you move past it?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Ashara looked at her, as if she understood exactly what Kali was thinking. "It took me a long time. I was First of the Clan, it was my responsibility to lock away my sorrow, to show a strong face to the Clan, and be the one to lead them through their pain. But inside, I went to a dark place. I thought Tamlen blamed me for not being there with her, for not protecting her. I thought that my Clan blamed me. But most of all, I blamed myself." She shook her head sadly. "A few months later, when most of the Clan was beginning to slowly heal, the Keeper asked that Tamlen accompany me out into the forest. It was the first time we were alone together, since her death. We had been avoiding each other. We slowly started talking, hesitantly, as if we were terrified of each other, and I learned that he blamed _himself_ for his sister's death, not me."

She sighed heavily. "We always blame ourselves for such things. It's easy to look back, and tell yourself that you should have done more; it's easy to find all the reasons that you failed the one you love." She looked at Kali. "I'm not saying that you'll ever be over what happened to your _mamae_. I'm still not over Tianna's death, and part of me still blames myself for what happened, just like Tamlen still blames himself. But," she let out a deep sigh, "I can live with it now."

Kali nodded solemnly; Ashara smiled sadly. "It's okay to be sad, _lethallan_. To be sad means that you accept what happened; it's the first step towards healing."

Kali was quiet for a minute. She was grateful to hear Ashara's words. Something about them made _her _pain somehow easier to bear.

It seemed that both women felt better. Despite the long journey that must be started the next day, Ashara and Kali stayed up late into the night, talking.

Finally, when the sky was starting to lighten, they made their way out of the library, arm in arm, smiling brightly. They had a dangerous road ahead of them, but they had managed to find a short reprieve from their worries. Despite the uncertainty of the future, the shadows of the past that still haunted them, they learned to share their fears and worries with each other. When Kali walked out of that room, she felt as though she had gained a sister.

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<br>shemlen - literally: quick children; an insulting word for humans  
>lethallan - kinsman, friend; used for females<em>

_Thanks to everyone requesting alerts or reading, and a special thank you to those of you who reviewed; it means a lot! :D :D_


	25. Pull the Thread

_Many many thanks to Kira Tamarion, for her awesome beta skills, as well as her patient, unending grammar fixes._

* * *

><p><strong>Pull the Thread<strong>

Thick clouds clustered overhead, dark and foreboding, carrying with them the scent of rain. It was a cool evening, and Zevran sat inside his tent, rummaging through Ashara's large box of herbs. Their fearless leader had finally gathered the group together, and explained their purpose in going back to the Wilds; they were to confront Flemeth, on Morrigan's behalf. It had something to do with the old woman wanting to possess the witch, and they were supposed to stop it.

Personally, he didn't really care about their reasons. He had sworn to follow the Wardens against the Blight, and he intended to keep that vow. But he _did_ think that it would be better if he had a full supply of poisons. He got the impression that Flemeth would be none to pleased by their accusations, and wanted to be fully prepared. Thankfully, Ashara kept a full supply of various herbs in her box, each bound together with different colored strings, to indicate their uses. There were plenty of plants for him to use.

With the exception of Sten, everyone had retreated into their tents, eager to avoid the approaching rain. Tamlen was adamant that Ashara skip the watch that night; he feared that if she sat outside in the rain, she would get sick, and harm the baby. Sten agreed to take her watch, and Ashara had laughingly retreated into the tent she shared with Tamlen. Zevran could hear the muffled sounds of their lovemaking.

He let out a sigh, as he dug through the box. There was a time, when he would have been sure to make some sort of joke about joining them. Even knowing how possessive Tamlen was over Ashara, he still would have felt the need to offer, if for no other reason than to garner amusement out of the Dalish man's anger. There was a time when he would have gone out of his way to flirt with Ashara, treating it as if a game, to see if he could turn her head, even though she was promised to another.

But for some reason, he couldn't seem to find it in himself to do such things anymore. For sure, Ashara was a strikingly beautiful woman. So were Morrigan, and Leliana. He lived and traveled with dazzling beauties, and yet the only one he could seem to think about, was Kali.

He pulled out a bundle of toxin extract from Ashara's box, and began to grind some of the leaves in a little bowl, frowning at the mixture. Somewhere along the journey, he found himself thinking more and more about the little rogue, and it confused and frustrated him.

At first, when Ashara spared his life and even agreed to let him join them, he saw Kali as the perfect target. She was easy to talk to, easy to charm, and she was too innocent to ever suspect any ulterior motives. He thought that if he could seduce her, she would convince Ashara to help protect him from the Crows. If Ashara agreed to help fight the Crows, then Tamlen would be sure to follow, and he would have gained some powerful allies.

He _did _find enjoyment out of it; that is true enough. Kali laughed easily, and he found it amusing how the most blatant of flirtations could fly right over her head. She was fascinated about his time as a Crow, and asked him all sorts of questions about his previous missions. Zevran, never one to be shy about his exploits, found it refreshing to have such a captive audience.

But as time began to wear on, he started to feel a sort of enjoyment out of her company. She never judged him; she accepted his past with women, and men, and never even blinked when he talked about some of the horrid things he had done during his time as a Crow. Kali accepted everything about his past. She never drew back in horror, or watched him suspiciously.

From the moment he swore to help them defeat the Blight, Kali trusted his word. Ashara and Tamlen had been suspicious at first; they watched him warily, waiting for his next assassination attempt, and only recently came to trust him as a friend, but not Kali. She never even considered the possibility that he might be lying, and a small part of him was dumbfounded by such trust.

It was strange to be around someone so open and sweet. He was used to dealing with people who kept their secrets close to their hearts, who actively sought out the chance to betray those around them. But Kali was different. If she gave her word, she kept it. She didn't manipulate, and she didn't lie.

His first impression had been that she was just simple minded, but soon he realized that was far from the truth. During these past months, he came to see that she carried a depth to her; a hopeful optimism that few people gave her credit for. After all that she had been through, the death of her mother, being kidnapped by a human lord, she still clung to her hope that life wouldn't always be clouded by sadness. She never let herself succumb to despair, and always looked towards a brighter future.

Somehow, during their journey across Ferelden, he realized that she was more than just a tool to be used, someone to help protect him from the Crows. When she told him about her mother, and her beautiful green eyes had sparkled with the tears she held back, his _first_ thought had been to do something to ease her pain. For the first time in his life, he had held and kissed a woman, without feeling the need to push for something more.

Zevran ground the toxin with more force than was necessary, venting this confusing mix of emotions. Everything about his life had taught him that what he felt was wrong. To care for someone was a weakness, something that could be easily exploited. It made him vulnerable. Such feelings had already made him a target once, and he had no desire to repeat that experience.

He hesitated. The last time he had cared for someone, Taliesin had easily convinced him to turn against her. Zevran allowed her to be killed, without any thought to the truth of the matter. He would never forget the way Rinna had looked up at him, begging him to believe that she wasn't traitor. It hadn't made a bit of difference. He allowed Taliesin to cut her throat; he even laughed at her.

Light footsteps approached his tent; he immediately tensed, ready to grab his knife. "Zevran?" It was Kali's voice, and he relaxed. His thoughts about the Crows were making him paranoid.

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I come in?"

He took care to relax his face, to show no sign of his thoughts. "Of course not."

The flap to his tent twitched open, and the little rogue stepped inside, carrying a large bundle of folded clothes. "I've finished most of your shirts, and I wanted to give them back to you." She set them by his pack and stood up, before inspecting his mixture of poison, curiously. "What are you making?"

He couldn't help but smile, despite his dark mood. She was such an inquisitive little thing. "I am mixing a poison called Adder's Kiss."

"What's that?"

He gestured for her to sit down, and tried not to notice the unconscious grace of her movements as she settled herself. "You can coat weapons with it, and it will slow an enemy's movement and attacks."

She hugged her knees to her chest, and lowered her voice. "Do you really think that we're going to have to actually _fight_ Flemeth?"

"I think it is a certainty. Ashara said that she wishes to possess Morrigan, and that we are to stop her. If the rumors about Flemeth are true, she will not take too kindly to such a thing."

Kali groaned. "The rumors also say that Flemeth is a _very_ powerful mage. Alistair is already on a big rant about how we're all going to be turned into toads, and tossed into a pot."

Zevran chuckled. "He seems to think that _every_ mage is going to turn him into a toad. But you do not need to worry, my little Warden. We will be prepared."

She nodded, and the two of them settled into an uncomfortable silence. At least, it was uncomfortable from Zevran's perspective. He tried to busy himself with mixing the poison, but he was acutely aware of Kali's vibrant eyes on him.

After a time, she spoke up. "Um, Zevran?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

Surprised, he looked up from the mixture of poison. "Why do you ask?"

She bit her bottom lip. "You just seem...off, like something's bothering you."

Caught off guard, he found himself answering. "I was thinking about Rinna." Immediately, he wished he could take the words back. But no, he couldn't.

Kali looked at him, curiously. "Rinna?"

Zevran looked away, and cursed himself for being a fool. He swore to never tell anyone what had happened. "She was a fellow Crow." He hoped that Kali could let the matter go.

"Was she...a friend?"

He was caught; there was nothing to do but answer honestly. _And why not? _a mad part of him wondered. Kali had been a good friend; she had been _more_ than a friend. Why should he not tell her the truth, as she had always done for him? "Rinna was...more than a friend." For some reason, he felt strange admitting such a thing to the little rogue. But, if he was to be honest with her, he couldn't hold anything back. He sighed. "She was tough, smooth, and wicked, with eyes that gleamed like justice. She was everything I thought I desired."

Kali bit her bottom lip. " 'Was'?"

He found the words forming by themselves. Before he could stop himself, he was sharing every painful detail with the one woman who had never judged him. Hopefully, she would not judge him for this, either. "You must understand, that I was once extremely cocky and arrogant. I was the best assassin in the Crows, I thought, and I bragged about my exploits, both as an assassin, and as a lover."

He couldn't bring himself to look at Kali's beautiful green eyes. "One of the Crow Masters grew tired of my constant boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise. Taliesin agreed to be part of my team, as well as Rinna."

"Did the mission fail?" Kali asked quietly.

"No, it did not fail." He inhaled sharply. "Taliesin informed me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from our target, and had revealed the plan. He said she needed to pay for betraying the Crows, and I agreed. I...allowed Taliesin to kill her." He closed his eyes. To this day, he could still hear Rinna's cries. "She begged me to spare her. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she said that she loved me, and that she had not betrayed us. But I...laughed in her face. I told her that even if she _didn't_ betray us, I didn't care."

Kali watched him carefully. "But you didn't mean that." She said the words firmly, as if she was certain of it.

"I convinced myself that I did. Taliesin cut her throat, and I watched her bleed out in front of me. Then...I spit on her." He winced. "When Taliesin and I finally assassinated our mark, we discovered the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all."

"Zevran, I'm so sorry," Kali whispered.

He sighed heavily. "I...wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, but Taliesin convinced me not to. We reported that Rinna had died in the attempt, but we needn't have bothered. The Crow Master who disliked me said that they knew what really happened, and that they didn't care. He told me that one day, my turn would come."

Kali's eyes were wide. "Why would he do that?"

He laughed bitterly. "He wished to rub it in my face, that I was nothing. That she was nothing." Finally, he lifted his head and looked at the little rogue. "Do you remember when you asked why it was that I wanted to leave the Crows?" Silently, Kali nodded. "The truth is, that I wanted to die. What better way than to throw myself at some of the famed Grey Wardens?" He paused. "But now, look where I am."

"Do you still want to die?" Kali looked at him nervously, as if afraid to hear that he still did.

When he sighed, it was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had never before shared that story, and yet the little rogue still looked at him with concern, even knowing of his ultimate betrayal. "No, I don't. What I want is to begin again." As he spoke them, he realized the truth of his words. For the first time in his life, he felt that he had been given a rare gift, hope. His life was not longer dominated by the Crows; he was free do choose his own destiny, and he realized that he owed it to this beautiful young woman, sitting in his tent, who had willingly shared his burden as if it were her own, and had somehow found a way to nestle in his heart. "Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal, Kali."

The little rogue smiled sadly at him. "You don't owe me anything, Zevran." She started fidgeting with the leather bracers on her forearms. "I'm so sorry about all that you've had to go through, but...for what it's worth, I'm...glad that I met you, and that you're with me."

Zevran smiled. Her words were so innocent, but to him they seemed worth more than all the gold of Antiva. He would never betray Kali; he would lay down his life to keep her safe. He had been given a second chance, and he would _not_ waste it.

oOo

Kali squinted her eyes, trying to make out some sort of recognizable shape through the thick mist and cluster of trees, trying to see _something_ to indicate that they were going in the right direction. But try as she might, she couldn't make out anything. She could barely even see her companions, and they were standing right next to her.

She sighed, and looked at Ashara, who was fingering the belt around her waist, waiting patiently while Tamlen inspected the earth. The Dalish woman had spoken with one of the trees, and discovered the direction that they were supposed to go, and Tamlen was in charge of making sure that they continued down the correct path. But Kali wasn't going to believe it until they finally found Flemeth's hut. To her it seemed as if the Wilds were one huge maze, that they would never get out of.

Behind her, Alistair shifted nervously. "Look, the last time we came through here, we got lost. Call me crazy, but I'm not exactly eager to repeat that experience, especially when our task _this_ time, is to hunt some crazy old maleficar."

Zevran chuckled. "Think of it as an adventure, my friend! We are braving the maze of the Wilds, to slay the evil witch and stop her nefarious plans!"

Ashara smiled. "Make sure to keep that optimism, Zevran. You're probably going to need it when we manage to confront _Asha'belannar_."

Oghren belched loudly, and swung his giant axe over his shoulder. "Well let's just find 'er fast; Aric's got some new ale I'm eager to try."

Tamlen stood up, wiping the dirt from his hands. "This way. The ground here is saturated with both the darkspawn taint, and an ancient type of magic. _Asha'belannar_ shouldn't be too much farther away."

Ashara nodded, and the group continued down the small path. Kali kept a tight grip on her daggers, almost as if she was afraid that Flemeth would suddenly pop up out of the ground and attack them. She was nervous about accusing such a powerful mage of trying to possess her daughter. Surely, Flemeth wasn't going to be pleased by such a thing, and might even try to kill them.

She wished that Ashara had agreed to bring _all_ of their companions, but Morrigan had firmly stated that she couldn't be anywhere near Flemeth when she died, and Ashara had agreed to leave most of their companions back at camp with the witch, in case anything should go wrong. The only people she agreed to bring, aside from Kali and Tamlen, was Zevran, Oghren, and Alistair.

"You all remember the plan?" Ashara asked quietly, as they followed Tamlen through the thick mass of mist and trees. "We can't let _Asha'belannar_ possess Morrigan, and I can almost guarantee that she's going to attack us. She's a very powerful mage, so we need to be prepared for anything. Alistair, you and Oghren are going to distract her. Attack her, get in her face, do anything you can to keep her attention on you."

"Wonderful," Alistair muttered. "I just want you to know, that if I get turned into a toad, I'm going to pee on all of your clothing."

Ashara chuckled harshly. "Getting turned into a toad is better than being killed. Now, I'm going to stand at a distance and keep everyone healthy; if I get a chance, I'll use offensive magic, but mostly I'll be focused on healing. Tamlen, you and Zevran are going to climb to a high point, and hit her with arrows." The two men nodded, and Ashara glanced back at Kali. "While _Asha'belannar_ is distracted, I want you to search for any opening you can find. Throw your daggers, stab her, do whatever you can when you get the chance."

Kali swallowed nervously, and nodded. "Do you think this is going to be a hard fight?"

"I'm almost certain of it."

Oghren laughed loudly. "Good! If there's going to be a battle, I say we just dive in!"

_I wish I could be that excited_, Kali thought pessimistically. She, for one, wasn't eager for this fight. Ashara had told her some of the stories of Flemeth that the Dalish have told. According to her, Flemeth had lived for thousands of years, had survived previous Blights, and was an ancient and powerful force. Together, the six of them might be strong, but how were they supposed to kill such an ancient mage? _I wonder if that's why Ashara left Kira and Aric back at camp. To continue on against the Blight in case we die._ That wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

After a time, Kali noticed a subtle tension in Ashara and Tamlen. They were gripping their weapons tightly, and holding their heads up. _We must be getting close_. Sure enough, they soon rounded a bend in the trees, and came to a small clearing; the same clearing that Morrigan had once led them to, before they even became Grey Wardens.

There was the same run down, little hut, and in front of it, near a small fire, stood Flemeth, as if she was patiently waiting for their arrival. That thought really didn't help Kali's anxiety.

"And so you've returned," Flemeth said, as the group cautiously approached her. She smiled, and looked around at all of them. "Lovely Morrigan has at last found someone to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn't you agree?"

Ashara shook her head, as one who has little time or patience for games. "I'm not surprised to see you waiting for us. You must know why we're here, then?"

The old woman laughed. "I take it Morrigan has discovered some secret, some information that requires her defense?"

"You could say that," Ashara replied. Kali marveled at how calm her voice was; she knew that the Dalish woman was nervous, but there was no trace of that in her steady words.

"Ah, it is an old, old tale." Flemeth regarded Ashara with amusement glittering in her yellow eyes. "Flemeth has heard it many times before, and even sung the tale herself." The smile on the old woman's face suddenly seemed to grow threatening as she watched Ashara. "I told you, young mage, to choose your destiny wisely. You are given yet another chance. Which path will you take?"

Ashara looked at the old woman cautiously, and then suddenly it seemed as though she understood Flemeth's words. She scowled harshly. "That was _you_?"

The old woman cackled deviously. "You are as a deer, struggling to keep up with the herd. If you are not careful, young one, the _wolf_ will catch you."

The words didn't make sense to Kali at all, but Tamlen seemed to understand them just fine. He took a step closer to Flemeth. "You _dare_ to threaten her, old woman?"

She laughed again, and Ashara drew herself up to her full height. "Enough!" The Dalish woman's voice was a low growl. "Morrigan has asked us to kill you, and whether or not you deserve to die, I'm not going to let you possess her."

Flemeth walked to a cleared out space, a few paces away from the hut. She reached the center, and turned to face the group, a dark smile on her face. "Ah, there are many reasons to kill old Flemeth, even more than you know." She regarded Ashara with a frightening look. "But you will earn what you seek."

Oghren lifted the axe from his shoulder. " 'Bout time she did somethin'. All that talk was makin' my head hurt."

Kali and the rest of the group were forced to watch helplessly, while Flemeth spread her arms and began to glow. She could feel the ground shaking, and struggled to keep her footing while she clutched onto her daggers. A deafening roar began to shake the trees, and when she next looked up, a giant, fearsome dragon stood where Flemeth had once been.

"Get ready!" Tamlen shouted, and everyone spurred into action.

It was worse than Kali had feared; in her wildest dreams, she would have _never_ imagined that Flemeth would have the power to turn into a dragon. She was almost as terrifying as the images of the Archdemon! Alistair and Oghren ran towards the creature, brandishing their weapons, while Kali tried to circle around behind it.

The dragon let out a blood-chilling roar, coupled with a burst of fire that swept the entire area. When the dragon twisted its head around, Kali managed to roll on the ground to avoid the flames. She couldn't see what the others were doing, but it was clear that the dragon wasn't paying any attention to her. Instead, her main foe was the dragon's giant tail, which harshly whipped around. She ducked to avoid it, and jumped towards the dragon's hind legs, slamming her daggers into its thick hide.

The dragon screamed, and stomped it's giant feet. Such was the force of its momentum, that it managed to shake Kali to the ground. She landed on her shoulder and had to immediately roll to the side, to avoid being crushed. She scrambled to her feet, amazingly still in possession of her daggers, just in time to see what looked like sharp wooden spikes shoot up from the ground. They stabbed the dragon from underneath; it screamed loudly, and tried to pull itself from its wooden trap, frantically swinging its tail and erratically breathing fire.

Tamlen was shouting something, but Kali couldn't make out his words. Suddenly, the spikes were gone, and the dragon thrashed around madly. She ran towards it, and saw the best opening that she would ever get. When the dragon lifted its leg, she had a window of only a few seconds before it stomped back down. She slid underneath the dragon, and stabbed upwards, with all the energy that she could muster. She continued to run, dragging her daggers with her, slicing through the creature's thick underside; blood poured down on her, covering her head, arms, and face.

The dragon began to sway. Kali let go of her daggers, and dove out from underneath it, just in time to avoid being crushed by its giant body. She collided into Oghren, knocking them both to the ground, and scrambled around on her hands and knees in time to see the dragon fall to the ground with a harsh thud that shook the very earth. She saw Alistair lift his sword, and slam it into the dragon's head. The creature stopped moving; it was dead.

Kali sat on the ground, her heart beating frantically. She was covered in blood, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps, but she was alive! She almost felt like laughing hysterically. After all the anxiety, the fear, and then that horrid battle, she was alive!

Her ears were still ringing from the dragon's roars, but dimly she became aware of someone yelling something. Slowly, she realized that something was wrong.

With a great effort, she managed to pick herself up from the ground, and looked around the clearing. But the only person she could see was Oghren, who looked just as confused as she did. With a pain, she suddenly realized that the shouts were Tamlen's. Her legs felt like jelly, her muscles screamed with every movement, but she somehow managed to circle around the dragon, and was confronted by one of the worst things she could ever imagine.

Tamlen was kneeling on the ground, shaking Ashara, who was covered in blood, and wasn't moving.

oOo

Morrigan paced around the camp, as agitated as a caged animal. How long was it going to take? Would Flemeth be too much for them to handle? She crossed her arms and scowled up at the darkening sky, as if she could somehow find the answer from the first stars.

Leliana looked up from the fire, where she sat with all of the others Ashara had left behind. "Pacing around will not make them return any faster, Morrigan. Come and eat with us."

Morrigan's frown deepened. "For the last time, I am _not_ hungry."

Leliana shrugged, and the witch resumed her agitated pacing. She was plagued by sudden doubts. She should have told Ashara everything, she should have warned her of Flemeth's true power. But she had feared that if Ashara knew what the old woman was truly capable of, she would refuse to help. Morrigan couldn't let that happen. She dearly wanted to take her raven form and seek them out, just to ensure that they were unharmed. But if she did that, and Ashara sensed her presence, it would expose her lie. She couldn't risk that.

She tried to comfort herself with the firm knowledge that this _needed_ to be done. If they could kill Flemeth's current body, the old woman would be greatly weakened. She would be forced into hiding, to gather her strength, and give Morrigan a chance to prepare for the next phase of the attack. Flemeth was a threat, greater even than the Blight, and she had to be stopped.

But that didn't change the fact that Morrigan did not wish to see Ashara harmed.

Panicked screams suddenly pierced the air. Morrigan jerked her head up, and saw Kali frantically running towards their camp. Immediately, the others were on their feet, their evening meal forgotten as they reached for their weapons.

"Wynne!" The little rogue was running so fast that she barely managed to avoid tripping over her feet. She was drenched in blood, and her wide eyes were terrified. "Wynne!" Her words came out in gasps. "Come...Ashara's...hurt!"

Morrigan felt her body grow cold. Wynne didn't question Kali; she grabbed her staff and her pack, and followed the rogue out of camp. Soon the two women disappeared in the trees.

Time seemed to drag on. No one dared to say anything, but Kira and Leliana exchanged worried glances. The snapping of the fire was the only sound in the camp; it sounded harsh against the frozen terror that seemed to settle over them. It took every ounce of willpower that Morrigan had, to keep herself under rigid control. _Ashara cannot lose her baby; that is not part of the path that has been laid out before her and me._

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Morrigan saw the group slowly returning to camp. She felt a tendril of fear curl in her stomach, when she saw Tamlen carrying a limp Ashara in his arms. She could see that the Dalish woman's shoulder and face were covered in blood, and her eyes were closed.

Everyone spurred into action. Ashara was carried to her tent, while Wynne began to shout out orders. Zevran pulled back the flaps of the tent to give them more room, and Kira brought the pot of hot water over to Wynne. Leliana rushed to Bodahn's cart to grab Ashara's large box of herbs.

Kali hovered near the group, hopping from foot to foot, terror evident on her face. "The dragon...it caught Ashara in the shoulder, and flung her to the ground."

Tamlen's face was a mask of agony. "Is she going to be okay? The baby...is it hurt?"

With Kira's help, Wynne unlaced Ashara's leather corset, and tore the fabric of her robe, exposing the Dalish woman's rounded stomach. She put an ear to Ashara's belly, and grew quiet. When she lifted her head, her face was hopeful. "I think that the damage is to her shoulder," she lifted Ashara's head and touched the back of her scalp, where blood was caked into her hair, "and her head. She probably hit it against a rock when she fell back, but I don't see anything to suggest that the baby is harmed." She gestured for everyone to leave the tent. "Give me some space; I will have more to tell you in a little while."

Everyone quickly retreated, except for Tamlen. Wynne looked up at him sympathetically. "Trust me, young man. Give me some space, to check the extent of her wounds. I'll call you back to help me clean her, and by then I will have a better idea of what's wrong."

Reluctantly, Tamlen stepped away from the tent. Morrigan watched, as his eyes traveled around the camp, until he slowly noticed her standing near the fire. His face twisted into agony and rage, and he suddenly dove at her, as if he would hit her. "You bitch! You _shemlen bitch__!_" He was practically spitting in his anger. "She did this for _you_, and you didn't even _tell _her what to expect!"

Morrigan tensed, but before Tamlen could reach her Zevran was suddenly by his side, gripping his arms tightly and holding him back. "Do not do something you will regret later, my friend." Zevran's words were quiet, but firm. "You must control yourself; Ashara will need you, when she wakes."

Tamlen allowed himself to be held back, but his eyes were burning with hatred as he glared at Morrigan. "If she or my child dies, I will _kill_ you." He let Zevran drag him away, leaving Morrigan standing in the center of the camp, feeling worse than she had ever felt in her life.

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<br>Asha'belannar - literally: Woman of Many Years; Dalish name for Flemeth_

_This story has reached over 100 reviews, and I am so freaking ecstatic by that! I want to send out a special thank you to Shakespira, Kira Tamarion, Ventisquear, and Suilven; you guys have been so encouraging and helpful, and I'm extremely grateful for everything. Thank you also to those of you reviewing, requesting alerts, or lurking. It really means a lot to me! :D_


	26. Night and Fog

_As always, I'm truly indebted to Kira Tamarion, for her amazing beta work, and wonderful support. She's really been a huge inspiration to my writing_

* * *

><p><strong>Night and Fog<strong>

_A warm night breeze fluttered through the thick forest, rustling the dark cluster of leaves with a light and airy dance. Ashara sat against a large and ancient tree, and closed her eyes, enjoying the familiar feel of the friendly bark press against her back. This place was so peaceful, like a sweet spring rain that refreshes the spirit and renews the body. The wind lightly caressed her cheek, as calming as a mother's embrace. _

"_You cannot stay here, _da'len_." _

_Ashara was startled by the unfamiliar and strange voice; she opened her eyes and was confronted by an image of such beauty, that at first she thought it must be a mirage. A stunningly beautiful _Elvhen_ woman stood before her, as powerful and graceful as the ancient trees of the Brecilian Forest. Thick, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, covering her naked torso in shining strands that seemed to catch the silver tendrils of moonlight. Her skin was dark, as brown as the deep, fresh soil of the earth, and her waist was covered with a wrapping of dark green vines and leaves, curling around her body as if molded to her skin._

_Ashara found herself gaping at the woman, as if she was a dancing witch suddenly frozen by an enchantment. "Who are you?" _

_The woman's dark lips parted into a sweet and loving smile; her deep green eyes sparkled with wisdom. "I am the Forest. All who reside within the comforting embrace of the trees are part of me. We are in the Beyond, but you must go, _da'len_. Your loved ones are calling you back."_

_Ashara frowned, trying to understand the woman's words. Her mind was clouded; it was so hard to think clearly. "The Beyond? Am I dead, then?" _

_The woman laughed, a lyrical sound that echoed through the trees, ringing a call of joyous life. Ashara could hear the chatter of birds, as they sang in reply to this strange woman. "Far from it, _da'len_. Life is strong within you, and will be for some time. You have many tasks to fulfill."_

"_Then, am I dreaming?"_

_She felt a glittering sense of amusement radiate from the stunning woman. "Dreams are many things, _da'len_, and they can be seen in many ways. But there are worlds upon worlds, and asleep or awake, they exist beyond that which you experience with your mortal senses."_

_Ashara nodded slowly. This woman may be foreign, but her words were as familiar as if the Keeper had spoken them. That thought made her study the woman more closely. Could that mean...was she...one of the Creators? It was obvious that she was no mortal elf, and how else would she know of the Keeper's teachings? Ashara felt her throat tighten; she was at a loss for words._

_The beautiful stranger smiled sadly. "You cannot stay here. An old power has returned, and it is hungry. Soon it will turn its appetite to your world, and you must be there to stop it."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_There are times, _da'len_, when the fates of mortals and gods converge. But such time is fleeting, and the opportunities it presents are rare. Right now, you must continue with your task of ending the Blight. In defeating it, you and Kali will be listened to as never before, and that is important. For there will be an opportunity in the future, a moment in which time will be altered, and history changed."_

_Ashara struggled to her feet, staring at the woman in utter confusion. "I don't understand!"_

"_All will be explained to you in time, _da'len_. For right now, you must not be distracted from the task that has been set before you."_

_The woman lowered her head, and swept her graceful arms to the sky. Ashara felt the edges of the Beyond shift and flicker. This stranger was sending her back. Ashara reached out an arm to the woman. "Wait! You never told me what your name is!"_

_The beautiful woman lifted her head, and smiled sadly. "You, my daughter, know me as Sylaise."_

_The world around her began to sparkle and shift, and before she even had time to react, the ground was suddenly swept out from under her, and Ashara was falling._

oOo

Pain was a dull and irritating ache, creeping up her shoulders and neck, to pound against the back of her head. Ashara let out a low groan. Her head was throbbing, her shoulders were stiff, and her skin felt clammy and cold. She felt sore and achy, as if she had been flung off a cliff, to land harshly against the ground.

She lay still for a moment, unwilling to move any part of her body for fear that it would hurt, and slowly became aware of something thick and warm, wrapped around her torso. Reluctantly, she forced her heavy eyelids open, and saw a thick stretch of fabric a few feet above her. Confusion started to set in; she couldn't understand where she was, or how she had gotten there. Her body screaming with every movement, she forced herself onto her elbows, and realized that she was in some kind of tent, and not an _aravel_. She could hear the buzz of gossip from outside, but they were not the familiar voices of the Clan. _Where am I?_

An old _shemlen_ woman suddenly poked her head into the tent; her wrinkled face lit up with happiness when she met Ashara's eyes. Immediately, she twisted around to call to someone outside. "Tamlen! She's awake!"

Ashara was suddenly confronted with reality, at the sound of the old woman's voice. She wasn't with the Clan anymore. She was on the road to the Brecilian Forest, with a group of _shemlen_ and flat-ears, trying to stop the Blight, for she was now a Grey Warden.

She heard swift footsteps, pounding against the ground, and the flap to her tent was flung open. Tamlen stood in the opening, his blue eyes wide with fright, a look of worry on his face. Then slowly, like a cluster of birds leaping towards the open sky, Ashara saw the fear leave his face, being replaced with an expression of hope.

"Ashara!" He lowered himself to his knees, and slowly crawled towards her, across the blankets that were spread out around her legs. He looked as if afraid to touch her, as if nervous that he would hurt her. "How do you feel?"

"Sore, stiff. My whole body hurts." Ashara noticed that her right shoulder was wrapped in bandages, and could now remember how she got these injuries; she remembered the fight with _Asha'belannar_, and how the dragon's giant tail had swung around and slammed into her. She tried to rotate her shoulder, to ease some of the tension in her muscles, and winced as a sharp stabbing pain shot up her right shoulder. _Wait, the baby!_ Ashara wrapped her arms around her stomach, and looked up at Tamlen fearfully. "The baby! Is it okay?"

Tamlen moved closer to her, and put his hands on her elbows, gently pulling her into his arms. "The baby is fine. Wynne said that the damage was to your head and shoulder, not your stomach."

Ashara relaxed and closed her eyes, inhaling the familiar, warm scent of him. He smelled of sunshine and leather, of hard work and pine trees. It felt good to have his arms around her; she felt safe, secure.

Tamlen kissed her on the forehead, and buried his face in her hair. "You _have_ to stop doing things like this, _vulpasha. _This is the second time you've been passed out; the second time I thought I'd lost you. You're going to make me old before my time."

"It's not like I _try_ to get hurt!" She nestled closer to him. "How long have I been out?"

"Only a few hours, thank Mythal. Wynne was worried that if you didn't wake up soon, it could lead to more serious problems."

As if she heard them, the flap to the tent was pushed back, and Wynne poked her head in. "I am sorry to interrupt, but I need to check on Ashara, and ensure that she is healing properly."

Ashara reluctantly pulled away from Tamlen, and let Wynne scoot over to her. She inspected the back of Ashara's head and nodded, pleased. "The wound on your head is healing nicely, but I need to ask you some questions." At Ashara's nod, the old woman continued. "How does your head feel? Is it aching? Do you feel light-headed?"

Ashara hesitated, trying to judge how she felt. "I feel a painful throb on the back of my head, like there is something inside it beating against my skull, and I'm a little dizzy."

Wynne nodded, and began to recite off a list of questions. "What is your name?"

"Ashara."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"How pregnant are you?"

"Almost five months."

Tamlen frowned. "Why are you asking her all of these questions?"

Wynne looked at him. "Ashara has a minor concussion, and I am ensuring that the damage to her head is not more severe than I thought." She turned back to smile at the Dalish woman. "You should rest, and not exert yourself, but I expect you to be fine in another day or so."

Ashara nodded, and looked at the wrappings bound tightly around her shoulder. "What about my shoulder?"

"You were caught by the dragon's tail." Wynne leaned forward, and carefully peeled back some of the wrappings, to show Ashara the large cut across her shoulder, that trailed down to her collarbone. "You have a deep cut, that will most likely leave a scar. But I'm worried that the damage is deeper than it looks. I need to see how well you can move your arm."

Wynne bound up Ashara's shoulder, again, and sat back on her heels as Ashara clenched her right fist. The simple movement was enough to make her wince; she could feel a pain shoot across her shoulder as her muscles protested the movement, but at least she could still use her arm. Wynne watched her carefully, and nodded. "Good. You'll have to stretch out the muscles, but at least you didn't break any bones. You were lucky."

Ashara bit back her instant reply. She certainly didn't _feel_ lucky. Sure, the damage could have been much worse than it was, but if she were _really_ lucky, she wouldn't have been hurt to begin with. But, that thought would sound very childlike, so she opted for simply nodding. "_Ma serannas_, Wynne."

The old woman smiled kindly. "I am glad that you were not seriously hurt, Ashara. And you should probably speak with Kali, when you get the chance. The poor girl has been out of her mind with worry."

Ashara lowered her head; she could just imagine how panicked the little rogue would have been. "I'd like to get up and sit by the fire, so I'll talk to her. Would you mind finding my box of herbs, Wynne? I need to make myself some tea."

Tamlen's frown deepened, as Wynne left the tent. "_I _can make you tea, _vulpasha_. You need to relax, and save your strength."

"I'll be fine, Tamlen. I don't plan on getting up and running around the camp; I just want to sit by the fire. I don't really want to stay in here, by myself. Besides, I need to talk to Morrigan."

But that only served to make Tamlen angrier. "I don't see what you could have to stay to her. It's _her_ fault you got hurt. She could have warned you about _Asha'belannar's _true power; she could have told you what to expect!"

Ashara had to admit that he _did_ have a point. But, she couldn't technically place _all_ the blame on Morrigan. Ashara had heard plenty of stories of _Asha'belannar's_ strength; she knew that it wasn't going to be an easy fight, and she had still agreed.

Tamlen crossed his arms and lifted his head; it was a gesture that she recognized all too well. He was going to protest, and put up a fight. Almost nothing changed his mind when it was set. But there _was_ one way to combat that, a tactic she used often. She lowered her eyes, trying to look pitiful. "I don't want to argue with you, _emma'lath. _I'm too tired, and I don't want you angry with me. I just want to talk to her, to ask her why she didn't warn me." She took care to make her voice quiet and pained.

He continued to glare at her, but as she drooped her head a little, he relaxed and reluctantly laughed. "See, now that's just not fair."

She peeped up at him innocently. "What are you talking about?"

"That. Acting all hurt and weak. You know that when you do that, I agree to almost anything you say. It's not fair."

She couldn't help but smile; Tamlen knew her way too well. "Well, part if it was true. I really _don't_ want you angry with me."

"Fine, go talk with Morrigan. I'll go heat up the water for your tea. Just, make sure to sit down; I don't want you tiring yourself." He grabbed one of her blankets. "And wrap yourself up in this. You shouldn't get too cold."

She could almost laugh at his worry, but really, it _was_ quite sweet. His concern for her was evident in those blue eyes she loved so much. It touched her heart. "I will."

He bent down and brushed her lips with his; Ashara tipped her head back to invite his kiss, and despite the ache in her body, she still felt herself respond to his touch. His fingers grazed the back of her neck, as light as a cool morning breeze, kissing the skin with a delicate touch. Tamlen broke off the kiss and leaned back on his heels, smiling when he saw her eyes, hazy with desire. "I know what you're thinking, but we probably shouldn't lie together until after your head and shoulder have both healed."

She pouted childishly. "I know."

He chuckled. "I'll go make sure the water is heated." He moved away from her, towards the flap to the tent. But before he left, he turned back to look at her. "I'm glad you're okay, _vulpasha_. And I'm glad our child is okay. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost either of you." Then he was gone.

Ashara smiled, and reached towards the pack for some clothing, since it seemed that her new robe was gone, and all she was currently wearing was a wrapping around her shoulder, and a blanket over her torso. Her right shoulder ached with every movement, but she could tell that it was hurting less than before. Apparently Wynne was a better healer than Ashara had given her credit for. She'd have to make sure to thank the old woman again.

She reached into her pack, and pulled out a pair of simple brown leggings, and a plain white tunic. It was something practical and comfortable for her to wear, at least until she figured out what happened to her robe. She slipped into her clothes, trying to move her shoulder as little as possible, but that seemed easier said than done. _I never really noticed how much the muscles in the shoulders move._ She sat down, as a wave of dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her. It was just as Wynne had said; she must have gotten a minor concussion.

Ashara thought about the old woman. She had always found Wynne to be insufferable. The old woman was always preaching about the benefits of the Circle Tower, looking down her nose at Ashara's friendship with Morrigan, and constantly offering up advice where it was neither needed, nor wanted. She inserted herself into the affairs of others without invitation, and had even gone so far as to try to preach to Ashara why it was right for the Chantry to govern mages! As if Ashara, a mage of the _Elvhenan_, would _ever_ accept anything about the Chantry!

But, despite all of that, Wynne had still come to her aid and taken care of her. If not for the old woman's healing, who knew what could have happened? There was no one else who could have healed her. Morrigan might know a little about herbs, but she had next to no healing magic. If not for Wynne, Ashara would have suffered for far longer, and some of that damage could have been permanent. But because of the old mage, a mage from the Circle Tower, Ashara was able to heal quickly, and she would only have a scar to show for it. _Perhaps I have been unkind to her. Maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt, once in a while._

Her head was slowly clearing; she no longer felt dizzy, and so she slowly put on her boots, and delicately crawled out of the tent, taking care not to put any pressure on her right arm. Once outside, she saw that it was the middle of the night, but all of her companions were still awake. They sat around the fire, talking quietly amongst themselves, and when she exited the tent and stood up, they all hushed and turned towards her.

Then suddenly, a storm of female enthusiasm broke out over her head. Kali, Leliana, and Kira all jumped up and ran over to her, bursting with happiness, praising the Maker that she was alive, and asking her how she felt. Ashara fended them off as well as she could.

"I'm fine! Really, I'm going to be fine!"

"We were so worried!" Kali burst out. "Even when Wynne said that you and your baby would be fine, you still weren't waking up; we were so afraid!"

Leliana clasped her hands together devoutly. "I _knew_ that the Maker would answer my prayers!"

"I think it had more to do with Ashara's stubbornness, and Wynne's healing skills," Kira said, with the look of someone who was tired of repeating the same argument. But the smile she turned on Ashara was delighted and sweet. "But I am glad that you're going to be okay. Kali is right; we were very worried about you, and your baby."

Ashara was touched by their concern for her well-being. For a moment, a wonderful moment, it was almost like being with the Clan again, with dear friends and kin who always looked out for one another. She smiled at the three women. "_Emma ir'abelas._ I didn't mean to worry you so much." Her smile faded, as she looked to where the rest of her companions were gathered around the fire. One of them was conspicuously missing. "Where's Morrigan?"

Kira pointed to a smaller fire, set a bit away from the camp. Sure enough, Morrigan sat near it, with her tent propped up behind her. The witch was staring into the flames, determinedly not looking at anyone else, as if she didn't care about what was going on. Ashara frowned. "Why is she sitting so far away?"

Kali glanced back at the main fire, where Tamlen was setting up the pot of water, and turned back to Ashara. "Tamlen got _really_ mad at her. He lunged at her; I thought he was going to hit her, but Zevran managed to pull him away. Morrigan moved her tent away from the rest of us, and hasn't said anything since."

Ashara nodded slowly; she could easily imagine Tamlen's reaction. She knew he would have been angry, and he would have lashed out at the most natural target, Morrigan. "I need to speak with her."

"But Wynne said that you need to eat!" Kali exclaimed.

"I will in a moment; I just need to speak with her first."

Leliana and Kira nodded, and walked back to the fire, but Kali still hesitated. Ashara smiled at her. "Go eat, _lethallan. _I'm just going to speak with Morrigan for a moment. Then, I'll relax for the rest of the night, and you and I can talk."

Kali nodded reluctantly, and fluttered over to the main fire, while Ashara walked over to where the witch was sitting.

Morrigan looked up as Ashara approached her, but made no effort either to move, or say anything. Her pale face was expressionless, and she watched silently as the Dalish woman slowly eased herself into a sitting position. Ashara's stomach was a quite a bit more round; almost anyone could see that she was pregnant, although the baby had yet to quicken. But still, between her expanding stomach, and this new pain in her shoulder, she was having a hard time trying to move.

The two women sat in silence, staring at the fire. Neither of them seemed to want to be the one to start the conversation that they both knew they needed to have. Finally, after a time, Ashara sighed heavily. "You weren't honest with me, about _Asha'belannar_." She took care to keep her voice light and even; there was no hint of accusation, or anger in her tone.

Morrigan stared at the flames, with the same look that Keeper Marethari once had, when she had given Ashara and Tamlen up to the Grey Wardens. It was the look of someone who understood the choice that had to be made, thought it pained them to do so. "No, I was not."

Ashara lowered her eyes. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she wasn't really angry with Morrigan. She was confused. She felt like there was something just out of her reach, some sort of truth that had been hidden from her. Sylaise, her beloved Goddess, had appeared to her in the Beyond, and before that _Asha'belannar_ admitted to having invaded her dreams. There was more going on than just the Blight, and Ashara wanted to know what it was. "I think...that there's a lot that you haven't told me."

Morrigan lifted her head, and met Ashara's eyes. But still she didn't say anything, and so the Dalish woman was forced to continue. "Morrigan, how can I trust you, when you won't trust me? I knew that you were hiding something when you asked for my help, but I still agreed to confront _Asha'belannar_ for you, as a true friend would do. But still you won't talk to me. I want to know the truth; _Asha'belannar_ never had any plans of possessing you, did she?"

Morrigan's eyes widened slightly. It seemed that for once, Ashara had caught her off guard. "Why would you think that?"

"I'm not stupid, you know. I saw the look _Asha'belannar_ got when I told her that I wouldn't let her possess you. She looked at me as though I was a _da'len _who still believed in fairy tales. I realized that you had lied to me."

Morrigan's frown deepened, but she inclined her head, acknowledging the truth in Ashara's words. "Very well, you are correct. Flemeth had no desire to possess me."

_Well, at least she's started admitting the truth. Maybe I can finally get some answers out of the stubborn woman._ "Why did you lie to me?"

Morrigan drew herself up. "I needed Flemeth's current body to die, so that she would be forced into hiding, and I would have time to gather my strength. I thought that if I told you I was in danger, you would be more willing to aid me."

"You didn't need to lie to get my help."

"What else was I supposed to do? Would you have helped me if I asked you to kill Flemeth, without a reason to do so?"

Ashara frowned. "So, the choices were to either lie, or tell me nothing?" The witch looked away, and Ashara pressed further. "You know, some people find that honesty can sometimes work wonders. You should try it sometime; I swear it won't kill you."

Morrigan scowled at Ashara; clearly, she didn't appreciate sarcasm, at least, not unless _she_ was the one being sarcastic. She pressed her lips into a thin line, and Ashara frowned. "Morrigan, you promised to tell me everything, once I had confronted _Asha'belannar_. If you respect me, as I have always respected you, you will keep to that promise."

The witch studied Ashara, as if trying to judge the weight of her determination. After a short silence, she inclined her head. "Very well. I shall tell you what I know."

oOo

Kali sat near the fire with Ashara, Zevran, and Tamlen. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, staring wide-eyed as the Dalish woman talked about all of the strange events that had happened to her recently.

It was Kali's turn to take the watch with Zevran; now that Ashara was awake and would be fine, the rest of their companions had felt relaxed enough to go to sleep, and Kali had settled in for a few hours of talking with the assassin. She liked spending time with him, and had secretly hoped that maybe he would kiss her again. He had certainly been passing some strange looks her way, looks that made her stomach clench up, and feel like thousands of butterflies were playing around in there.

But Ashara said that she didn't feel like sleeping, and Tamlen, hovering around her like a nervous father, said that he would stay up with her.

So the four of them sat around the large fire, talking and laughing about mundane things. But after a while, Ashara said that it was the perfect time to share something that had been weighing on her mind for a while now. They listened, astonished, while the Dalish woman told them about strange dreams that she had been having. Dreams where voices would talk in booming voices, and Flemeth would warn and threaten her. Kali was suddenly reminded of that night of _Sha'nan_, when she would have swore she heard a voice say something to her. _What was it that I heard, something about peace, maybe?_

"Are you sure it was Sylaise that you saw in the Beyond?" Tamlen asked, interrupting Kali's train of thought.

Ashara's violet eyes looked troubled. "She said it was Her, although I suppose it could have been a demon trying to convince me to trust it." Her dark brows furrowed together. "But it didn't feel like a demon. It felt...different. I can't really explain it."

Zevran twirled the hilt of his dagger. "I have heard the name Sylaise spoken when I spent time among the Dalish, but I do not recall who She is."

"She is the Hearthkeeper." Ashara touched the intricate tattoo around her neck, the swirling vines and leaves that wrapped around her throat. "She is the Sister of Andruil, the One who taught us how to build fire, how to heal with herbs, and to use our magic. She gave us the gifts of song and dance, and showed us how to spin fiber into ropes and thread." She lifted her chin, to show them her tattoo. "This is Her design. As a First, I was taught to offer up prayers and sacrifices to all of the Creators, but I am closest to Sylaise."

Kali nibbled on her thumbnail, frowning at the glowing fire. Something about this was bothering her, but she couldn't figure out exactly _what _was bothering her. Something just didn't sound right. But then, with a sudden start, she instantly realized what it was. She lifted her head and stared at Ashara. "Wait, I don't understand." Ashara, Tamlen, and Zevran all looked at her. "Sylaise came to you? She really...I mean, She actually _spoke_ to you? Then, the Creators are real?"

Ashara and Tamlen looked at her strangely. "Of course the Creators are real," Ashara said slowly, as if explaining something to a confused child. "Why would you think differently?"

Kali felt a low heat creep up her cheeks; she felt as though she had offended them, which certainly wasn't her intention. _I really need to think about what I say before I say it! _She had just questioned their entire religion! "Um, well, I just hadn't thought...I mean, the Chantry always says..."

"The Chantry!" Ashara interrupted angrily, her face clouded with anger. "The Chantry doesn't understand _anything_! We of the _Elvhenan_ have been worshiping our Creators before the _shemlen_ _ever_ arrived to Thedas, before anyone had even _heard_ of this so-called Maker, this supposed all-powerful deity! The Chantry has done nothing but destroy our people and our civilization, and force our brethren into sad shadows of the lives they could have had!"

Kali felt all the blood drain from her face. "I...I'm sorry..."

"No, don't apologize." As swift as it came, the anger seemed to drain out of Ashara. She closed her eyes, and lowered her head; Kali could see the tension slowly leaving her body. "I'm the one who should. _Emma abelas, lethallan_. I shouldn't have gotten angry; please forgive me. I...you didn't deserve that." She reached her left hand out to Kali, and squeezed her hand tightly.

Tamlen looked at Kali; he seemed almost sad. "You have to understand, Kali, that the Chantry called us barbarians and heathens, and led an Exalted March against our home, a sacred place where we tried to reclaim all of the lost history that the Magisters of the Tevinter Imperium stole from us. They were angry that we wouldn't worship their Maker, and swept through our new home, slaughtering everyone in sight, all because we had our own Creators."

Ashara withdrew her hand from Kali's and straightened up. "Well, that wasn't the _only_ reason. They were angry because we withdrew into the Dales during the Second Blight." She shook her head. "But what else could we do? We had been enslaved by _shemlen_ for a thousand years; we had lost almost all of our power, language, and culture. We even lost our immortality. Our ancestors felt that we owed the human world nothing." She looked at Kali. "But despite all of the bitter history between the Chantry and the _Elvhenan_, it still remains a fact that we have prayed and worshiped the Creators before the _shemlen_ first crossed the Venefication Sea, and invaded our lands."

Kali nodded thoughtfully, puzzling over Ashara's words. What Ashara said made sense, and for the first time she started to realize that maybe all of the stories were actually true! The Dalish woman had told her all of the history of the Creators, but it had always seemed like a story, a mythical fantasy that didn't really exist. She felt so foolish, now that she thought about it, but she had never really realized that the stories of Arlathan, and the mesmerizing tales of the Creators might actually be true! But if the Creators _did_ exist, then did that mean that the Maker didn't?

She glanced at Zevran, who continued to twirl his dagger, seemingly unconcerned with the thought that the Maker might not exist. _We are elves,_ she thought slowly, _which means that long ago, our ancestors would have lived in Arlathan, just like Ashara and Tamlen's. So, they would have prayed to the Creators. My ancestors...they were devoted to these same Creators that Ashara and Tamlen pray to. _Her eyes widened, as a thought suddenly hit her. _I wonder...is that why I was so eager to hear Ashara talk about Them? Is it because I am an elf, and I know in my heart that They are really __**my**__ gods, too?_ She frowned; it was all too confusing.

"So, do you know what Sylaise was trying to warn you about?" Tamlen asked, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

Ashara shifted her legs, crossing them together. "I don't know. She spoke in riddles, and I couldn't understand what She meant. All She said was that an old power is returning, and that it will turn its gaze to our world."

"Could She have meant the Tevinter Imperium?" Tamlen asked.

Ashara shook her head. "I don't think so. I'm starting to think that perhaps, it has something to do with _Asha'belannar."_

Zevran finally lifted his head, for the first time looking intrigued. "Flemeth is powerful, no? You yourself said that even though we killed her, she would not truly be dead. Will she return for revenge?"

"It's possible, I suppose." Ashara tried to roll her right shoulder; Kali could see her wince at the movement. "Morrigan told me almost everything she knows, which admittedly wasn't much. She said that _Asha'belannar_ is as ancient as we have suspected, and that she has only survived so long by stealing the...entity, I suppose, of others. She said that _Asha'belannar_ is reaching the point where she needs another host, to extend her life."

"But I thought that was why we attacked her in the first place," Kali said. "I thought that Flemeth wanted to possess Morrigan."

Ashara inclined her head. "Well, that's what she said at the time, but now she says that _Asha'belannar_ wants to possess something even stronger, although Morrigan claims to not know who or what it is that the old woman wants." She sighed. "I'm not really sure if I believe that; I still think Morrigan knows far more than she's letting on. But she _did_ say that she's starting to think that _Asha'belannar_ is no longer content to hide in the Wilds, away from the rest of the world. She claimed that _that_ is the true reason why she asked us to kill the old woman; to give her time to figure out what it is that _Asha'belannar_ truly wants."

Zevran seemed almost amused. "And do you believe her?"

"Yes and no," Ashara said. "I believe that _Asha'belannar _is a threat that we need to be cautious of, but I don't believe that Morrigan told me everything she knows."

"So what are we going to do?" Kali whispered.

"For now, I think we should keep on our path, and end the Blight. There's nothing we can do now, and even if we _did_ choose to try to find _Asha'belannar_, and stop whatever it is she's trying to do, the Blight would still ravage the land, and destroy our country." Ashara lifted her head a little bit higher. "Once the Blight is ended, then we can turn our attention to _Asha'belannar_, and determine how much of a threat she truly is."

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><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>da'len - child<br>Elvhen - Dalish word for elves  
>aravel - the vehicles used by the Dalish Clans to travel; Dalish homes<br>Ma serannas - thank you  
>Asha'belannar - literally: Woman of Many Years; Flemeth<br>Elvhenan - technically the society of Arlathan; the Dalish use the word for themselves, in reference to their belief that they are the only 'true elves'  
>Emma ir'abelas - I'm very sorry<br>lethallan - kinsman; friend  
>Emma'lath - my love<br>Emma abelas - I'm sorry_

_It took me a while to figure out what exactly Sylaise looks like, b/c there aren't really any pictures of the Creators. The closest I could find was a statue of a woman holding a bowl, but I couldn't see her face. She was dressed in clothing, but I figure that a Goddess of the Forest would look as though she was part of the Forest, which is why I changed it. _

_Happy Valentine's Day to everyone! Obviously this chapter didn't really fit in with the theme of Valentine's Day, so I added that little snippet about Ashara and Tamlen's kiss. _

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, requesting alerts, or lurking. It means a lot to me! :D_


	27. Beyond the Dark Forest

_Many many thanks and hugs to Kira Tamarion, for her awesome and swift beta work, her very helpful suggestions, and for fixing the horrendous mess of a chapter I sent her :D_

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><p><strong>Beyond the Dark Forest<strong>

The morning sun was bright and strong, and the sky was as blue as a robin's egg, as refreshing as a glass of cold white wine. Kira Thaon tipped her head back and closed her eyes, basking in the warm sunlight and cool air. It felt so very wonderful, to finally feel a hint of warmth in this frigid climate. In Orlais, she had been told over and over that Ferelden was made up of nothing but mud and snow. It was believed that the entire country was frozen and brown, and she had almost started to believe that it was true. But now that the sun was beating strongly, and the sky was clear, she could, for the first time, see a kind of sparkling beauty in the land. She was beginning to see why it was that Fereldans loved their country so.

The group was traveling along the Brecilian Passage, a path which would take them through the forest on their way to Denerim. There, they hoped to find Brother Genitivi, who could, hopefully, help them find the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Ashara had told them that as long as they followed the path of the river, they should also discover one of the Dalish Clans, and convince them to honor the treaty.

Personally, Kira was very eager to meet one of the infamous Dalish Clans. In Orlais, she had been taught that the Dalish were vicious savages. She had been told that when the elves lived in the Dales, they had started numerous skirmishes with the people of Orlais, and eventually attacked and took control of the small town of Red Crossing. Every child in Orlais had heard the stories of how horrendous the Dalish had been, how they had committed such terrifying atrocities, that even the Divine had been shocked to her soul. Kira had been told how the Chantry, eager to protect innocent victims, had been quick to support Orlais, and led an Exalted March against the Dales.

It was common knowledge that Orlais won. Even to this day, Halamshiral, the old capital of the Dales, was a major source of pride to the Orlesians, who now controlled it. They considered it a testament to the strength of their faith, and the prowess of their Chevaliers. Of course, they also loved the city for its exceptional beauty. It was not quite as stunning as the gorgeous cathedrals and lush fields of Val Royeaux, of course, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Kira had only been there once, as a young girl, and she remembered how awestruck she had been to see the mesmerizing buildings, and elegant fountains, glittering with precious gems.

But she was hesitant to tell her new companions any of that, for fear of offending the two Dalish Wardens. From what she had so far seen and heard from Ashara and Tamlen, it appeared that the Dalish elves were still bitter about their losses. She had heard Ashara tell Kali of their history, though the Dalish woman hadn't known she was listening, but she could remember the sadness in Ashara's violet eyes, as she recounted all that had been stolen from her people.

It seemed that Ashara believed that the Chantry attacked the Dalish for no other reason than their withdrawal into the Dales during the Second Blight, refusing to help the humans. But Kira had been taught that the Chantry only waged war on them after the elves slaughtered thousands of innocent people, that the Dalish had been the first to instigate such violence, and Kira was beginning to wonder how much of it was true. Certainly Orlais won the war, and Kira was old enough to know that history was often written by the victors. But could it not also be reasonable to assume that the Dalish were simply angry at their loss, and looked for any excuse to blame the humans for their misfortune?

Personally, she was of the opinion that perhaps there were faults on both sides. She found it hard to believe that one side was evil, while the other was innocent. It could not be denied that the Dalish had been through much hardship; their history was certainly riddled with much pain and loss. They had plenty of reasons to be angry, surely. But Kira was a devout Andrastrian; she could not believe that the Chantry would attack an entire race for no reason other than prejudice.

Although, what made things so very confusing, was that Ashara and Tamlen were certainly not the barbarians that she had been led to believe about the Dalish. They were a bit primitive, perhaps, but certainly not barbarians. They endured hard, nomadic lives, and lived off of the land, but their movements were as graceful as an Antivan dancer, and there was a sort of exotic beauty to them. Ashara had more herbal knowledge than any midwife Kira had ever met, and Tamlen's bow was made of a beautiful white wood that almost seemed to shine with a silver hue. She had never before seen anything like it. Their clothing, their weapons, everything about them was strange and beautiful. It fascinated her.

Plus, Ashara was a fine leader. She planned out the watch schedules, ensured that their group was always well supplied with fresh clothing, armor, and potions, and even organized them during their trips from one place to the other. She maintained firm control over the group, encouraged them to practice and learn new skills, but didn't tax them too much. She even admitted that she didn't know much about the human world, and had no qualms about asking others for their opinions.

Kira continued to trail along at the back of the group, keeping a watch out for ambushes and allowing herself the freedom of thought, until she saw Alistair glance back at her from the center of the group, and slow his pace. When Kira caught up to him he smiled down at her.

"It's lonely at the back, by yourself. I thought that you might like some company."

Kira smiled at him. She knew him well enough by now, to know that what he really meant to say was, "I wanted to spend time with you." But Alistair was _far_ too shy to say something like that. During the two and a half months that she had known him, she had learned that he was quite a kind and endearing man. He was brave, strong, and honorable, and Kira had grown to rather like him. She was slowly coming to think that perhaps he felt the same way. He went out of his way to keep her company, stumbled over his words, and blushed quite often when he spoke with her, but so far he hadn't said anything to either confirm or deny her hopes.

She flashed him a sweet smile. "It _was_ rather boring. I could only pass the time by thinking."

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and looked away from her; she could see his cheeks redden ever so slightly. "Oh? What about?"

She inclined her head towards the front of the group, where Ashara was walking and talking with Tamlen and Kali. "I was simply thinking about how fine of a leader Ashara is." Alistair grimaced, and Kira couldn't help but laugh. "What? You do not think so?"

"She can be as mean as Morrigan." Alistair stopped frowning for a moment, and grinned teasingly. "Besides, the two of them are always hurting my manly feelings."

Kira inclined her head and smiled. "Well, we cannot have your manly feelings be abused, can we?"

She had to admit that the witch _was_ too mean to him; she seemed to hate him, for no apparent reason. Or rather, if there _was_ a reason, Kira had yet to find it. "Ashara is not _as_ bad as Morrigan. At least she is not so angry towards the rest of us anymore, whereas I am quite sure that Morrigan does not even know the _meaning_ of the word 'nice'." Alistair laughed. "Besides, it does not change the fact that Ashara is a fine leader for the Wardens. She is prepared to do whatever it takes to end the Blight; as Grey Wardens, we must understand this and sometimes do things that we don't wish to do."

Alistair seemed to grow serious, and looked at her with something of a questioning look. "Then why haven't the Grey Wardens come to help us? I've been trying to understand why they wouldn't come, and I'm starting to wonder what they're hiding."

Kira felt the smile drain from her face, and she lowered her eyes. In truth, she was irritated with her fellow Grey Wardens, ashamed that they would abandon their brothers and sisters during a Blight. "They are too caught up in the Empress' Grand Game. She treats the Grey Wardens as if we are her personal Chevaliers, and I am saddened to say that the Grey Wardens not only accept this, but actively participate. They hold much power and influence at court, and they are not afraid to use it." She let out a sigh. "As much as I love my brothers and sisters, it shames me to say that they do not behave as a Grey Warden should."

Alistair watched her curiously. "So, you believe that the Wardens should have crossed the border, even if it meant angering Loghain and getting us exiled from Ferelden?"

Kira tried hard to keep the scowl from her face. It wasn't Alistair that she was angry at; it was her fellow Wardens of Orlais. "I understand why our Warden-Commander, Mikhail, did not wish to get involved. He is in a position of authority; he must think of our future, and for that reason his actions must be more diplomatic than most. But I _do_ believe that out of sixty Wardens in Orlais, there should have been more who were willing to cross the border than Aric, Riordan, and myself." She lifted her head a bit higher, and glanced at Alistair. "When we've defeated the Blight, it is my hope that we can rebuild the Wardens here, and show them what it is to be a Warden."

Alistair seemed distracted, and his eyes widened. "So...you want to stay in Ferelden?" A light blush began to creep up his cheeks.

Kira couldn't help but smile at his reaction. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached out and grasped his gloved hand, her smile widening as she watched the color rise in his cheeks. He was such an attractive and endearing man; sweet and open, nothing at all like the hardened, lying men of Orlais. She happened to enjoy his looks and coloring, as well as his personality. Any woman would be lucky to have him.

She tossed him a flirtatious grin. "I could see myself staying... for the right reasons."

oOo

Tamlen stretched out his arms and leaned back on his hands, looking up at the black sky, glittering with thousands upon thousands of bright stars. It was his turn for the watch; well, technically his and Zevran's turn, but the assassin had disappeared off towards the river, saying that he needed a bath. Tamlen had told him that he could keep watch on his own for a little while, since Zevran wasn't allowed anywhere near the river during daylight hours, not since Ashara had caught him spying on Kali while the little rogue bathed. Tamlen chuckled to himself; Zevran still had the scar on his arm, from where he had been pinned down by the roots Ashara had called up.

Tamlen's smile slowly faded from his face as he thought about Ashara. For once, he had managed to convince her to actually go to sleep at a reasonable hour, but he could tell that something was troubling her, though he didn't know what it was. Maybe it was those dreams she was having; the dreams where Sylaise spoke to her, or _Asha'belannar _taunted her. Or maybe she was stressed about her pregnancy. She was over five months pregnant now, and she had told him that she was starting to get worried, because the baby hadn't yet moved.

He had no idea what to say to her. He was a man; he knew almost nothing of pregnancy or childbirth, so there was nothing he could say. No words of advice or comfort, other than that he was sure everything would be fine.

Thankfully, Wynne was able to help. Tamlen never would have thought he'd be grateful for the old woman's presence, but he was now. She told Ashara that not only had she assisted in many births throughout her long life, but she that she had also birthed a son of her own. She eased the young mother's fears by telling her that there was nothing to worry about, at least, not yet. Wynne claimed that all babies developed differently, and that elven children were a lot smaller than human children; some elven babies didn't move until close to the sixth month. She cautioned Ashara that stressing and worrying would only make it worse.

That seemed to soothe some of Ashara's worry, but Tamlen knew that she secretly still stressed about it. He decided that when they found one of the Dalish Clans, he would ask their Keeper to look at her. Surely, Ashara would trust the word of a Keeper. That should make her feel better.

The thought of finding the Dalish brought a slight smile to Tamlen's face. He was eager to find their people; eager to see which Clan they would find. He could recognize most of the Clans that lived in the Brecilian Forest; they all traveled roughly the same route as his own Clan, and he knew a few of the hunters from other Clans. Maybe they would even get lucky enough to find their own Clan. With the warmer months coming, Keeper Marethari should be bringing their Clan to the outer edges of the forest. She was the best healer of all the Dalish; surely _she_ would be able to assure Ashara that everything was fine with the baby.

He saw Zevran coming back from the woods, his hair wet and a fresh tunic thrown over his torso. He shook out the excess water from his hair, and grinned at Tamlen. "Ah, how invigorating that was!" He tossed his soaps and dirty clothing in his tent, and looked around the camp. "Everyone else is asleep, yes?" Tamlen nodded, and Zevran's grin widened. "Even your lovely woman?"

Tamlen tossed another stick into the fire. "Yes, even Ashara went to sleep. Why?"

The assassin chuckled, and sat down near the fire. "Then it will truly be quiet tonight, such a rare treat! Normally we are all kept awake by the two of you rolling around in your tent."

Tamlen laughed; Zevran was always harassing him about the amount of noise he and Ashara always made. It had become a running joke between the two men. "Jealous, are you?"

Zevran twisted part of his hair up into the braids he normally wore. "I would say that I am more impressed than jealous. We elves are quite well-known for our stamina, you see, and it seems that you Dalish men could rival even the most professional of whores."

Coming from Zevran, that was considered the ultimate of compliments. Tamlen grinned. "Well, I must perform my duties as the father of her child. Not that I don't enjoy it, but we Dalish believe that a pregnant woman must lay with her mate at least once every other day, if not more. It's believed to be good for her, to make her birth easier."

The assassin started laughing even harder. "I'll have to remember that one!"

"Well, from what Ashara's told me, you're getting to be quite close with Kali, so you're probably going to be waiting for a while."

Zevran got a rather strange smile on his face. "There are things worth waiting for, my friend."

Tamlen thought about the little rogue. "She's kind of cute, I guess." But Kali was a bit too innocent for his tastes. If anything, she seemed like the kid sister, someone he could laugh and joke with, but he couldn't really imagine a relationship with her. "I prefer dark hair and a stubborn, fiery woman, someone who keeps me on my toes."

That was why he loved Ashara so much. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, though even among the _Elvhenan_ her looks were considered exotic. There were few of the Dalish with such pale skin, and he had yet to meet anyone with her violet eyes. But she was also an enigma to most of those around her. Few people ever really understood her. Most just saw her as a snippy, sarcastic woman who refused to listen to anyone. But those who really knew her understood that she was fiercely loyal to those she cared about, and gave respect to those who earned it.

She was passionate about her people, determined to do what she thought was right, and always held her head up high. She wasn't like the other girls of the Clan, girls who either sat in groups and giggled while they batted their eyes at the men, or who angrily tried to best the hunters in speed and strength, as if they had something to prove.

Zevran nodded. "Normally I would agree with you, but I have come to learn that there is something to be said for a sweet smile and an easy laugh."

Tamlen had to admit that the assassin did have a point. He thought about the rare times when Ashara's tender heart emerged, the times when she had bubbled with laughter over something, or danced around the Clan, excited about something new she had just learned. He thought about the times when she would sit at one of the Clan's fires, telling stories to the _da'len_, using her hands and face to bring the past to life. Tamlen glanced back at his tent, where he knew Ashara was sleeping soundly inside. "I guess you have a point."

Zevran smiled, as if he knew exactly what Tamlen was thinking.

oOo

Ashara closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scents of the Brecilian Forest. A dull pain wove through her shoulder as she stretched her arms out, but she ignored it. How long had it been since she had last set foot in this sacred place? _Over six months; though it feels like a lifetime._ She had almost forgotten the scent of the forest. The fresh leaves and deep, musky earth, mixed with the spicy tang of the magic used by Clans throughout the ages. There was nowhere in Thedas that smelled quite like this forest.

Beside her, Kali looked around at their surroundings, as wide-eyed as a young doe. "This place is beautiful!"

Ashara smiled, more content than she had been in months. "It is. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be here."

Sunlight tricked through the thick canopy of trees, setting the very air with sparks of light. In the distance she could hear birds singing and calling, as if to welcome their sister home after a long journey. Ashara wanted to kick her heels up like a _da'len_ and run through the trees, or take a long drink of the fresh, cold water. She wanted to climb up one of the trees and nap in the shade, or sing with the birds.

But there was no time for that; she had a job to do, which was to find one of the Clans that lived in this beautiful place. Perhaps she could speak to one of the trees; certainly they would know where the Dalish were.

Before she could tell her friends to wait while she tried to discover where they should go from here, Tamlen suddenly stiffened. "What's wrong?" she asked.

His eyes flicked to the sides, as if searching for an unseen enemy. "Step lightly; we've been surrounded."

Ashara turned her head back to her group, who had tensed up at Tamlen's words. They each reached very slowly for their weapons, their eyes darting around warily. If they were surrounded, it had to be by one of the Dalish Clans. She needed to be sure that her group wouldn't attack them. "Be calm, there is nothing to worry about. Don't do anything unless I tell you to." She met Kali's eyes; the little rogue looked a bit frightened, but she swallowed and put her daggers back in their sheaths.

Suddenly, a Dalish woman stepped out from the shadows of the forest. Ashara, who didn't have Tamlen's good eye, barely even saw her approach. The woman clutched her bow tightly, and held out a hand. "Hold! You are intruders, too close to our camp. Tell us your purpose in coming here, or you will meet our arrows."

Ashara watched silently, as more hunters appeared from behind the trees. She counted six in total, and all of them glared at her as if she were a stranger to the forest. She felt a small bit of irritation at their unveiled scowls. Couldn't they recognize her as one of the _Elvhenan_? She _was_ a First, after all. But perhaps they were too distracted by the humans in her group to notice who she and Tamlen were. _Well, I suppose I can't really blame them for that. The last time Tamlen and I found humans close to our camp, we killed them._

She took a step forward and lifted her chin, giving the hunters a view of the _vallaslin_ woven around her neck. It would show them that she was one of the _Elvhenan_. "_Aneth ara, lethallan. Emma _Ashara Mahariel, _Las'vhen arla Sabrae Elv'lin._" She gestured to Tamlen. "_Ira _Tamlen, _arla Elv'lin. Ar'en dirth'na Shalas'vhen_."

The woman who seemed to be in charge visibly relaxed, her face broke out into a bright smile, and she inclined her head in a greeting. "_Aneth ara, lethallan. Emma _Mithra, _arla Ainuae Elv'lin_. _Abelas, _I should have recognized you both right away."

Ashara glanced around at the other hunters. They still clutched their weapons tightly, and watched her group warily. She had to do something to keep them calm. "The Ainuae Clan? I have met your Keeper, Zathrian."

Mithra nodded, and slipped her bow over her shoulder. She gestured for her hunters to do the same, though it seemed to Ashara that they did so unwillingly. "It is good that you have come, _lethallan, _for we are always eager to welcome one of the _Elvhenan_. You will be happy to know that your own Clan is with us, as well."

Ashara frowned at the woman. "Keeper Marethari brought the Sabrae Clan to meet yours? Why did she do that?" She exchanged a glance with Tamlen, who looked as confused as she did. Two Clans of the Dalish _never_ met with one another. The only time that more than one Clan gathered together was when it was the time of _Arlathvhen_, the meeting of the Dalish that occurred once every ten years. Other than that, it was almost unheard of for two Clans to share a camp. By keeping away from one another, the humans could not find them as easily.

Mithra lowered her eyes sadly. "Our Clan has been through dark times, _lethallan_, and most of our hunters are either wounded or dead. Our Keeper's magic is helpless against it. Keeper Marethari is famous for her healing powers, and wished to help in our time of need; she told us that the trees cried out for our loss, and brought her Clan to aid us, since we do not have enough hunters to gather food or clothing."

Ashara's confusion only deepened. "I don't understand; what has happened to your hunters?"

Mithra looked around at Ashara's companions hesitantly. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion back at the camp. You and Tamlen are, of course, welcome to our Clan. I know that Keeper Marethari will be very pleased to see you. But your companions must wait here."

A collective mutter of protest when up through Ashara's group, and Kali stepped forward, staring at Mithra curiously. "Why won't you let us in? We're not going to cause any problems."

Mithra tossed the little rogue a disdainful look. "I was not speaking to _you_, flat-ear."

Kali winced as if Mithra had slapped her, and Ashara instantly put an arm around the little rogue's thin shoulders, scowling at the Dalish woman. "Do _not_ speak to her in such a way! She is a Grey Warden, as am I, and Tamlen." Ashara inclined her head towards the rest of her group. "These are our fellow Wardens and allies, who have given up their lives to help us end the Blight. You _must_ allow them to your camp, if only because they are my friends and I give you my word, as First, that they will harm no one."

Mithra shook her head. "I am impressed that two of our own have joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens, but I cannot allow them entry into our Clan. Ashara, you and Tamlen are of the _Elvhenan_, you know why we can't allow strangers into our camp."

Ashara was beginning to grow really impatient now. Were _all_ of the _Elvhenan_ _really_ this stubborn? She didn't think so. After all, _her _Clan had welcomed Duncan and his men into their camp; they had allowed them the privilege of eating their food and restocking their supplies. Her Clan had even welcomed Pol, a city born elf, into their home, and taught him how to appreciate his roots. Perhaps it was just this Clan that was so stubbornly suspicious. Of course, it didn't matter _how_ wary they were, they should still at least trust _her_.

She clicked her tongue impatiently, and looked down her nose at Mithra. "Do you doubt the word of a First? Do you _honestly_ believe that I would bring enemies into a Clan of the _Elvhenan_?"

Mithra began to squirm, and glanced around at her fellow hunters, who shifted uneasily. Ashara could tell that they were beginning to weaken. It was almost considered heretical to question the word of a Keeper or First, who were both trusted with keeping their people safe. If the Dalish could not trust the future leader, who could they trust? Ashara decided to push them further. "If you like, we can wait here while you go and speak to Zathrian. But I can guarantee that neither he nor Marethari will be pleased to know that you forced me to wait."

That seemed to be exactly the right thing to say to them. Mithra sighed deeply, as one forced into a corner, and rubbed her temples. "Very well. You may come with us. I will bring you to Keeper Zathrian and Keeper Marethari, and let them decide if your companions will be allowed to stay." She glared at them all. "But I swear on Elgar'nan, if any of you humans or flat-ears so much as _twitch_ the wrong way, you will meet our arrows."

She spun on her heel and walked away, leaving Ashara and the rest of them trailing after her. Kali glanced up at Ashara, her green eyes wide. "Are all the Dalish like that?"

Ashara shook her head. "No, they aren't. That's not the _Elvhenan_ at their best. You'll see when we meet Keeper Marethari. She is the wisest, most kind woman I have ever known."

Kali seemed to accept that; she smiled. "I can't wait to meet her. You talk about her all the time."

Ashara grinned. Despite the rude welcome, she felt her heart lifting at the thought of seeing her people again. She couldn't wait to see Marethari, Fenarel, or Ashalle. She was even excited to see Merrill again. After six months of fighting the Blight, struggling against the human world, she felt as though she was coming home.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>vallaslin - blood writing; the tattoos that each member of the Dalish gets when they come of age, each tattoo represents a different Creator<br>Elvhenan - the Dalish  
>Asha'belannar - literally: Woman of Many Years; a title given to Flemeth<br>Arlathvhen - meeting of the Dalish that occurs once every ten years  
>da'len - childchildren  
>abelas - sorry<br>Aneth ara, lethallan - Greetings, friend  
>Emma Ashara Mahariel, Las'vhen arla Sabrae Elv'lin - I am Ashara Mahariel, First of the Sabrae Clan<br>Ira Tamlen, arla Elv'lin - This is Tamlen, of the same Clan  
>Ar'en dirth'na Shalas'vhen - We have come to speak with your Keeper<br>Emma Mithra, arla Ainuae Elv'lin - I am Mithra, of the Ainuae Clan_

_**A/N:** Bioware doesn't give you the name of Zathrian's Clan, so I sort of made it up. I read that part of how the Dalish referred to themselves were modeled after the Ainu, so I just added a few letters on to the end. As far as the two Clans being together, its always seemed weird to me that if you play as a Dalish Warden, you never see your Clan again. I mean, I know that Marethari says that she's moving her Clan north, but Ghenya tells you that the two Clans are well-known to each other. Besides, if Marethari can "hear on the wind" that Hawke is going to cross a sea and visit her Clan in DA2, I figure she can tell that Zathrian's Clan is struggling, since they live in the same freaking forest. For a people who live off the earth, to lose their hunters would pretty much mean extinction, so it seems natural to me that two Clans would help one another in such a time. _

_This chapter was kind of filler (except for that last part, obviously), but I figured it was time to show how certain people are bonding. I hadn't really gotten an opportunity to show how mature and reasonable Kira is, which will be to her advantage later on in the story, and I wanted to show how she and Alistair are getting closer. As far as Tamlen and Zev, I just like showing how the two of them interact. They make me laugh._

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, reading, and requesting alerts. You guys are awesome!  
><em>


	28. Winds of Chance and Change

_Many, many, hugs, cookies, and thanks to Kira Tamarion. As always, she is such a huge help, and her swift beta work is awesome_

* * *

><p><strong>Winds of Chance and Change<strong>

When the group finally entered the very large Dalish camp, Kali felt as though she had stepped into another world. Through all the conversations she had had with Ashara over the past few months, she had tried many times to imagine what a Dalish camp might look like. As she cast her eyes around the clearing, which seemed to stretch out for miles, she realized that the reality was far beyond anything she could have envisioned.

The first thing she noticed were strange wagons littered everywhere. _What had Ashara called them, Arvels__,_ _or something? _They were unlike any wagon she had ever seen. Large, with some sort of fabric stretched out over them; they would have almost looked like stationary homes, if not for the giant wheels.

She could see dozens of small fires spaced out around the camp; each one seemed to have at least six or so Dalish around them. At one fire a group of women sat singing and swaying their heads while they sewed. At another a group of Dalish were laughing and gossiping while they tossed spices into a pot, or ground some sort of powder in small bowls. Children scampered around the camp, giggling and chasing one another until inevitably they knocked something over and were scolded by an adult.

Kali could see an area off to the side of the camp, where men and women practiced their archery. An older man studied their movements, often halting them to offer up instructions and advice. Behind them was a large pen, where beautiful white deer bleated musically, and pranced around in the grass.

It looked like a place straight out of a fairy tale, a place that didn't actually exist. It seemed like a nomadic type of village, something out of the stories that Mama would tell her and Soris before it was time for bed. But, as Kali looked around, she realized that this _wasn't_ a fairy tale. It was real! She wanted to inspect everything, to learn as much about this place as she could.

As she studied the Dalish, she realized how strange their clothing was. In the alienage, women generally wore dresses, and men wore breeches. But some of these elves were wearing a strange type of tunic, made of spare fabric, or cloth, and simple leggings. She was startled to see that some of the men were shirtless, and that some of the women wore only a breast band across their chests. In fact, now that Kali was looking closely, she could see that most of the youngest children were only wearing a simple type of loincloth. Clearly, these Dalish had no problem with exposing their skin.

One thing they _did_ have in common was that all of the adults wore tattoos, similar to Ashara and Tamlen's. Most of them were decorative swirls or patterns on their face, but some of them, like Ashara, wore the tattoos across their long necks.

Mithra led their group through the camp, and as Kali kept looking around, amazed by everything she saw, she started to feel slightly uncomfortable. The Dalish slowly became aware of their presence, and stopped what they were doing to gawk at the strangers marching through their home. Some of the glances were curious; others were openly hostile or suspicious. Kali saw one of the Dalish women snatch her child up and push him into one of those strange wagons. _Do they think we're going to hurt them? There's __**way**__ more of them than us; what harm could we do to them?_

The group was taken to the far side of the camp, where two of the Dalish appeared to be waiting calmly for their arrival. At once, Kali knew that they were Keepers. She wasn't sure _how_ she knew, exactly, but she just did. Maybe it was because they looked so ancient and powerful, like the towering _Vhenadahl_ that stood in the center of the alienage, a reminder of who the elves once were. Or maybe it was because they seemed like elves who were accustomed to leading. Whatever the reason, Kali was almost positive that these were the Keepers of these two Clans.

Mithra bowed deeply to the two of them. "_Andaran atish'an_, Keepers. Keeper Marethari, I bring before you Ashara and Tamlen, two of your Clan. They are Grey Wardens now, and ask that their companions be allowed to rest within the camp. I thought it best to leave the decision to you both."

Kali was sure she heard Ashara scoff, and pressed her hands against her mouth to keep herself from giggling. Mithra acted like _she_ had been the one who decided to allow them entry, when in reality Ashara had been forced to bully her into it.

The male Keeper nodded solemnly. "_Ma serannas,_ Mithra. You may return to your post."

Mithra inclined her head. "_Ma nuvenin_, Keeper." She shot Ashara a glare, before slinking away from the group, her shoulders stiff with resentment. Kali figured that she was angry at being sent away.

Once Mithra was gone, Kali turned her attention back to the two Keepers. She guessed that the female was Marethari, and could see at once why it was that Ashara respected her so much. Marethari's bright green eyes sparkled with wisdom; she looked like someone who could see into your soul, and know exactly what you were thinking. Her face was kind, almost motherly. She had the look of someone who would pity her enemies, even as they came against her.

In contrast to Marethari's quiet serenity, the male Keeper, Kali couldn't remember his name... Zath, something, looked imposing and angry. His dark eyes were narrowed skeptically, and he looked around at the group with something of a suspicious gaze.

Ashara bowed deeply to the two Keepers, and Kali was almost certain that she heard a sort of wavering emotion in her voice. "_Andaran atish'an,_ Keeper Marethari, Keeper Zathrian."

Marethari's face broke out into a bright smile, at once making her look much younger. "_Aneth ara, da'len. _You and Tamlen have been much missed these past months." Kali could hear the tenderness in the old woman's voice.

Zathrian looked around at the group with his hard eyes. "Allow me to handle the introductions. I am Zathrian, the Keeper of the Ainuae Clan, its guide, and preserver of our ancient lore." He gestured to Marethari. "This is Marethari, Keeper of the Sabrae Clan. You have come seeking shelter within our camp?"

It seemed to take Ashara a lot of effort to pull her eyes away from Marethari, and look at Zathrian. "We have come for more than one reason, Keeper." She lifted her head a bit higher. "We are Grey Wardens, come to ask our kin of the _Elvhenan_ to honor the treaty they swore years ago, to aid us against the Blight."

Marethari's wise green eyes were sad. "Then it is true. Our fears have been realized."

Zathrian nodded. "We could sense the appearance of darkspawn deep to the south, but we could not be sure that it was a true Blight." The way he said it almost made it seem like he doubted Ashara's word.

"I assure you, it is a Blight," Ashara replied, somewhat haughtily. "We have gathered allies from the mages of the Circle Tower, and the _Durgen'len_ in Orzammar. Now we seek our allies among the _Elvhenan_."

Zathrian exchanged a glance with Marethari. "We would be willing to uphold our promise, especially to help one of our kin, but there is a... difficulty."

"Yes, Mithra told us that your hunters are sick," Tamlen said.

Marethari shook her head sadly. "It is not just that they are sick, _da'len_." She looked around at the group. "But perhaps your companions should make themselves comfortable, before we speak of such things. You have been given the south side of our camp, for all of your belongings and tents. That space is yours, for as long as you have need of it."

"Ack! Ge' off me! Bunch of nug-lickers!" Oghren suddenly shouted.

Kali twisted around, and saw why it was that Marethari wanted them to prepare their tents; apparently they were causing quite a stir amongst the children of the Dalish. They were fascinated by the horses and tried to climb onto their backs, or crawl onto the cart, while more of them were trying to pull at Oghren and Aric's beards. Since the two dwarven men were almost the same height as the children, they weren't having an easy time trying to pull away.

Beside her, Zevran laughed. "Oh come now, my fine dwarven friend! Your beard is a masterpiece; allow the children to admire you!"

Ashara chuckled, and glanced at Kira. "Why don't you go and set up our tents?"

Aric tried to back away from the children, but tripped over his feet and landed on his behind. Alistair, laughing so hard he was almost in tears, picked the dwarven man up and slung him over his shoulder, much to Aric's dismay. "Put me down, you sodden arse!"

Kira smiled at her fellow Orlesian Warden. "Now, now Aric, stop fighting." Kali had the sneaking suspicion that Kira was enjoying how ridiculous Aric looked, swinging his hands and fists through the air.

Wynne and Leliana whispered calmly to the horses, and guided them off towards the south side of the camp while the rest of their group followed, except for Ashara, Tamlen, Kali, and Zevran. But Kali wasn't exactly eager to go set up her tent just yet. She wanted to explore the camp, and see how the Dalish truly lived.

She glanced up at the two Keepers. "Um, would any of the Dalish mind if I wandered around the camp?" That one Dalish woman, Mithra, had made her nervous. She didn't want any of the hunters to think she was causing trouble, and attack her.

Zathrian stiffened. "We do not appreciate strangers staring at us."

Ashara scoffed, and scowled at him. "Kali is not going to gape at the _Elvhenan. _She has spent her life under the rule of _shemlen_, and is eager for the chance to meet her kin."

Marethari smiled kindly at Kali; once again, she saw why it was that Ashara respected the woman so much. "You are welcome among us, _da'len_, free to go where you like. Some of the _Elvhenan_ may seem nervous or suspicious of you, but it is simply because we are not used to strangers in our camp. Do not take it personally."

Kali nodded, and grinned back; it was impossible not to warm to this kind old woman. "I understand. Ashara's told me a lot about how the Dalish live. She's been teaching me about the Creators, and I can even speak some of your language!" She was eager to show the Dalish that she wasn't just another elf who turned her back on their history. She wanted them to see how much she was learning.

Marethari chuckled, and looked at Kali fondly. "You are a sweet girl, _da'len_. I think that you have a great future ahead of you."

"What do you mean?"

But before Marethari could respond, a young man suddenly exclaimed, "Tamlen!" Kali turned towards the voice, and saw a young man with light hair striding towards them eagerly.

Tamlen's face broke out into a bright smile. "Fenarel!" The two men clapped each other on the backs, and started laughing. "It is good to see you, _lethallin_!"

Fenarel swept Ashara up into a giant hug; she laughed and embraced him back. "Look at you, _lethallan_!" Fenarel said. "Pregnant! Ashalle is going to be beside herself with joy!" He swung his arm around Tamlen's shoulder. "Well, it looks like being a might Grey Warden hasn't been all bad, has it? I assume that when the little one is born, you're going to bring him to me for training?"

Tamlen laughed. "I doubt it. I want my child to learn how to hunt properly, not chase after every member of the opposite sex."

Fenarel's smile widened, and for the first time seemed to notice Kali and Zevran standing silently, watching the exchange. He let go of Tamlen and walked up to Kali; she noticed that his eyes were warm, and shifted uncomfortably. "Ashara, when were you going to introduce me to your lovely companion, here?"

Ashara lifted her chin. "Her name is Kali, Fenarel, and she's a dear friend of mine. The man beside her is Zevran, a member of the Antivan Crows."

Fenarel glanced at Zevran, but didn't seem to be much interested in him. Kali bit her bottom lip, not knowing what to say to him. It would probably be offensive if she hid behind Zevran, but she really wished that Fenarel would look somewhere else.

"What is an Antivan Crow?" Fenarel asked. He continued to smile at Kali, as if he expected her to answer.

But it was Zevran who replied. "We are an order of assassins, out of Antiva." _That_ got Fenarel's attention. Zevran smiled sweetly, but Kali could see a hard glint in his eyes. "And so I suggest that you keep a distance from my lovely _querida_."

Tamlen started laughing. "You're going to get yourself killed, Fenarel. Zevran here is quite skilled with stealth and poisons; you'd be dead before you even knew what happened."

Fenarel sighed dramatically. "Creators, all the beautiful women are already taken!" His disappointment didn't seem to last _too_ long, though; he quickly perked up and turned back to Tamlen. "Wait, why are you traveling with an assassin?"

Tamlen chuckled. "It's a long story."

"Well, come on. Chief Tasar and some of the hunters are eager to see you, and you can tell me this long story." He glanced at Ashara. "I hope you don't mind, _lethallan_, but I'll be stealing your mate for a little while."

She smiled. "Take him. I wish to speak with Marethari and Zathrian some more, anyway." Tamlen stole a quick kiss from her, and the two men walked off towards a group of hunters, laughing and joking along the way.

Kali glanced at Ashara. "I'm going to go wander around." At her nod she looked towards Zevran. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Of course."

Zevran kept beside her, as she walked through the large camp. She had no idea where she was going to go, but this whole place just fascinated her. She wanted to sit with the women and learn some of their songs, or run around with the little children. She wanted to learn how they made their strange clothing, or watch as they cooked their food.

Her eyes darted around, taking in everything around her, but then she slowly realized that Zevran was being strangely quiet. She glanced at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

He smiled at her. "Nothing at all."

But she didn't believe him. She watched him with a slight frown, and then suddenly realized why he was quiet. It was nothing more than a young woman's intuition, but she suddenly figured out what was bothering him. "You're irritated at Fenarel. Why? Were you jealous?"

Zevran laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. "Jealous? Ridiculous! Why should I be jealous of something like that?"

"You were! You were actually jealous!" Kali found herself grinning like an idiot. It was such a strange thought, but something about Zevran being jealous of her made her happy.

The assassin scowled at her, but that only made her laugh. He threw up his hands. "Why are you laughing?"

"I don't know. I just... it makes me happy to think that you would be jealous over me." She smiled up at him. "I like the thought of it."

Zevran's face softened, and he pulled her into a tight hug. "Ah, you are such a girl, _mi querida_."

"Are you teasing me?"

"I assure you, my little Warden, no teasing here. None at all!"

Kali knew better than to believe him; Zevran was _always_ teasing someone. She stuck her tongue out at him, and pulled away from his arms. "Well, now that you're in a better mood, let's go look around the camp." She grasped his hand, and pulled him towards one of the fires. Maybe if they sat down and talked to one of the women, Kali could learn some of those songs they were singing.

"Kali?" A vaguely familiar voice reached her ears, and she stopped in her tracks. Who would know her name here? Aside from Ashara and Tamlen, she didn't know the Dalish.

A young man was stepping out of one of those strange wagons, with a look of surprise on his face. "Kali? That _is _you! What are you doing here?"

Kali gaped at the young man. "Pol? You're alive?" The last time she had seen him had been over a year ago, right before he disappeared from the alienage.

His eyes widened. "Of course! Wait, you thought I was dead?"

"We all did!" Kali twisted around to Zevran, her eyes wide. "Zevran, this is my friend Pol. He used to live in the alienage until about a year ago." She turned back to Pol. "You disappeared, and then we didn't hear anything from you. Of course we thought you had died!"

Pol shifted guiltily, and studied his feet. "I'm sorry to do that to all of you. But I had to leave, before the guards caught me." He swallowed nervously. "My brother, Taeodor, he thinks I'm dead too?"

"Well, _Hahren_ Valendrian kept telling him not to expect you to come back, but Taeodor won't believe it. He swears that you're doing to come home one day."

Pol shook his head sadly. "I can't go home, Kali. The guards would hang me if they ever saw me again."

She bit her bottom lip. Taeodor had told her that Pol had been caught trying to pick a guard's pocket; they needed money, to put food on the table and take care of their little sister. But the guards didn't care about that; all they cared about was that an elf had tried to steal from a human. "I'm sorry that you had to run away Pol. At least you found the Dalish. But I'm surprised they just accepted you." She would have thought that the Dalish would've turned him away.

Zevran nodded. "The Dalish often take in elves from the city, as long as they are willing to pull their own weight, and help the Clan."

Pol brightened up. "Kali, you can't imagine what it's like to live here. The Dalish, they treat me like I'm one of their own people. It's not like the alienage; no one here treats me like a burden. When I first came, they made sure I had food and clothing. And our history! They've taught me all about Arlathan, and showed me the statues and portraits of the Creators. I never knew what it meant to be an elf, before I came here." He swallowed. "I miss Taeodor, and I miss my friends in the alienage, but I've grown to love these people."

Kali looked around at the camp. "Really?"

He nodded, and gestured back to his wagon. "Here, why don't you and Zevran come back to my _aravel_? I want to hear all about how everyone in the alienage is doing, and how you came to be here."

Kali smiled, and grasped Zevran's hand as she followed after Pol. She _never_ in a million years would have guessed that by coming to the Dalish camp she would see a friend from the alienage. In a weird way, part of her started to wonder if fate was conspiring to make her want to join the Dalish. Joining the Grey Wardens, meeting Ashara, and now seeing Pol! How else would all these strange occurrences be explained?

But she brushed that thought aside. Surely, it was nothing more than a number of coincidences.

oOo

Ashara straightened herself up from the bed of one of the sick hunters. The poor man was writhing around in pain, begging Mythal to deliver him from his pain. Lanaya, Zathrian's First, eased the aching hunter into sleep, which was the only relief that they could offer him. Ashara glanced around at all of the sick beds, where countless hunters slept, their breathing ragged. _This is worse than I thought._

She turned back to Zathrian, who watched her with critical eyes. "You're right; this poor hunter's blood is corrupted, and it's spreading fast to the rest of his body."

Zathrian crossed his arms. "As I told you. I fail to see why you needed to check for yourself."

Ashara gritted her teeth, and fought the urge to roll her eyes. After only five minutes with this man, she had been reminded of why she had always disliked him. Zathrian was, basically, an arrogant ass, always talking about his long life, always reminding others of his power. "True, but considering the fact that you've asked _me_ to help your Clan and retrieve Witherfang's heart, I feel the need to know as much about this sickness as I can. Forgive me for wishing to be well informed."

"I do not take kindly to such sarcasm, especially from a First who left their Clan to live in the _shemlen_ world."

Ashara clicked her tongue impatiently, and looked down her nose at this unlikable man. "Don't even start acting all high and mighty; you know _damn_ well why I left my Clan." Her eyes narrowed disdainfully. "You know, I never thought I would find a reason to say this, but I have met many honorable humans these past six months. They make me ashamed of a Keeper like you, who berates his own kin."

Zathrian scowled, but Ashara didn't care. She was a Grey Warden now; she didn't have to answer to a Keeper anymore. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to Marethari's _aravel._ My friends will be staying here tonight, and will start our search for the werewolves in the morning."

Without bothering to wait for a response, she spun on her heel and stomped away. By the Creators, she had forgotten she disliked him so much. Poor Lanaya; Ashara couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be trained by someone like him. But, Lanaya seemed happy enough, so maybe he was a better Keeper than he was elf.

Ashara walked through the camp, looking around for the familiar faces of her own Clan. But when she saw them, they tossed curious glances her way, and whispered to one another. Ashara frowned. She had expected that her Clan would flood around her, eager to see her again, but most of them looked at her like she was a flat-ear, an intruder who didn't belong. That hurt.

Marethari was seated just outside her _aravel_, sipping a cup of what looked like her usual tea. She smiled as Ashara approached, and set her cup down. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to see that you and Tamlen are alive and well, _da'len_. Yet I should not have worried; the path before you is long."

Ashara sat down next to Marethari, barely paying attention. "Keeper, why does the Clan look at me so strangely? Are they angry that I left?"

"Not at all, _da'len_. They are surprised, and they do not know what to say to you." She looked around at her people. "Most of the Clan feels as though we allowed you and Tamlen to be taken from us. They feel that we should have done more for you. It is guilt that keeps them away."

"Oh." Well _that_ certainly wasn't what she had expected. "But I don't blame the Clan, or you, or anyone. I'm grateful to be a Grey Warden." Ashara hesitated, but realized that she was speaking nothing but the truth. "I can do a lot of good for our people. Tamlen and I have been given the chance to show the world what the _Elvhenan_ can do. Besides... these strangers with me are good people, Keeper; they've become my friends."

Marethari studied Ashara thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled. "You have grown wise, _da'len_. This journey has been good for you; I can see why the Creators have chosen you for this path."

At the mention of the Creators, Ashara's frown deepened. She wanted to ask Marethari about the dreams with Sylaise, but had no idea really where to start. "Keeper, have you ever been visited by one of the Creators in your dreams?"

Marethari closed her eyes and lowered her head; it seemed as though she was listening to an internal voice that Ashara couldn't hear. After a few minutes of silence, the young woman grew more and more curious. "Keeper?"

Marethari exhaled deeply, and opened her eyes. Her gaze was vacant, as if she was seeing something off in the distance. "In the time of Arlathan, our ancestors spoke to the Creators often. They played where we played, They sang with our musicians and danced in our temples. But then Fen'Harel imprisoned Them, and now They are free to speak with us only in our dreams."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

The Keeper blinked slowly, as if drawn back to the present. "I have only ever seen Mythal once, when I was but a _da'len_. She cradled me in Her arms, as loving as the Mother she is."

Ashara gaped at her; Marethari had never mentioned this before. "What did She say to you?"

"She told me only that when the world began to shake, that I must remember her promise of protection. She will keep Her children safe."

Ashara frowned. "Sylaise told me that an ancient power will turn its face to our world. Could They have meant the same thing?"

The Keeper spread her hands. "Perhaps. They are Goddesses, _da'len_. Rarely do They give a straight answer."

Ashara rolled her eyes, and groaned. "Well, it would be so much easier if they did. I mean, if they were talking about the same thing, when is it going to happen? Why did Mythal tell you so long ago?"

Marethari smiled at Ashara's exasperation. "Perhaps They do not know. Or perhaps it is because They are immortal; you know, from our history, how little time means to an immortal. What is a day to a Goddess? What is a year?"

"Aren't you worried, at least? Mythal tells you that the world is going to shake, and then Sylaise tells me that an ancient power is hungry! How do we find out what they mean? How do we prepare for whatever they were talking about?"

The Keeper didn't look in the least bit troubled. "Why should I worry? If the world does shake, I shall remember Mythal's words, and I shall prepare. Until that moment, there is nothing I can do." Her smile widened, as she watched Ashara scowl. "You are no longer an apprentice, _da'len_. You are a Grey Warden, soon to be a mother, but I fear that you are still as impatient as the day you learned your first spell."

"Well of course!" Ashara's scowl deepened. She loved Marethari deeply, but had forgotten how frustrating the woman could be. "If the world's about to fall apart, I'd like to at least have _some_ sort of idea of when it's going to happen!"

"Then you will torment yourself."

"I know." Ashara sighed deeply, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But can you blame me?"

Marethari chuckled. "Of course not, _da'len_. You are who you are; to expect you to behave any differently would be folly." She picked up her tea and took a sip. "But allow me to tell you this; with the presence of the darkspawn, I worried for our people. I have looked in the waters for a glimmer of the future. I have listened to the wind, and stared into the fire, and I can find no sign, no omen that our world is at risk yet."

"Even with the Blight?"

"Even with the Blight, _da'len_. Whatever it is that Sylaise warned you about, I believe that it will not come to pass for a few years yet."

"Oh, wonderful. Well, good to know that I have a few years of worry ahead of me." Ashara sighed deeply.

Marethari watched the young woman curiously. "There is more troubling you than these dreams, _da'len_. Tell me what is wrong."

Ashara scowled. "What isn't? I'm fighting against a Blight, with no real idea of what I'm doing, and nothing but a thrown together plan that has a slim chance of succeeding. Everyone looks towards _me_ to lead; they all want me to make the hard choices for them, to decide when and where to go, and how we're going to kill the Archdemon, but the only thing I can do is follow the most logical course, which is to gather our allies. Then, when we have them I have to run around the country and try to find the ashes of a dead woman, which can _hopefully_ wake Arl Eamon, who can _hopefully_ unite a country full of warring _shemlen_. If he can't, I have no idea what we're going to do."

She looked up at the canopy of leaves, as if they could give her answers. "Then I have Sylaise appearing in my dreams, telling me that something big is about to happen, but I have no idea what it is, or even _when_ it'll happen. I have no idea how to prepare, or even what to look for! And on top of all that, I'm pregnant, and I have no idea if my child is going to be okay! I'm a Grey Warden! My baby was conceived _after_ I went through the Joining; what if the darkspawn taint affects it?" She pressed her face against the palms of her hands, and inhaled deeply.

Marethari waited, until Ashara began to relax. "_Da'len_, you have been called to a position of leadership, which is never easy." Her words were kind, but firm. "Do you think that your life would have been easier if you had remained with the Clan, and become the Keeper?"

Ashara lifted her head. "I don't know..."

The Keeper smiled sadly. "No, it would not. You would still be plagued by doubts, you would still be forced to make hard decisions that would affect those that you care about." She looked towards the south of the camp, where Ashara's group was setting up their tents, laughing and joking. "You have good people around you; ask for their help. You do not have to do this alone."

"But..."

"No protests. You are afraid to admit that you do not know what to do; you believe that they will think less of you if you falter. That is nothing but your pride speaking, _da'len_. They are your friends and allies, and even in such a short time I can see that they would be willing to help, if only you asked."

Ashara closed her eyes; she knew that the Keeper was right. But Marethari always had this affect on her; she always made things seem so much simpler than Ashara saw them. "_Ma serannas_, Keeper."

Marethari smiled. "Now, let me take a look at your child. I shall tell you if it is growing properly."

She scooted closer to the Keeper, and watched as Marethari held her hands out over Ashara's stomach. A glowing blue light began to shine around Marethari's hand; Ashara felt her stomach lurch, as the energy swam around her growing baby.

It was over as swiftly as it had begun; the Keeper cut off the flow of magic, and smiled up at Ashara. "You have no reason to worry, _da'len_. Your daughter is strong and healthy."

"Daughter?"

"Yes. See how she lies?" Marethari pressed a finger against Ashara's stomach. "It is a girl."

"But why hasn't she moved yet? Aren't babies supposed to move by the fifth month?"

"That is true of human children, but _Elvhen_ babies are much smaller. If your daughter has not moved by your sixth month, then you will have reason to worry. But I suspect that you shall feel her move very soon."

Ashara was more grateful than she could ever express. "_Ma serannas_, Keeper."

Marethari reached for her cup of tea, and smiled at Ashara. "Now, perhaps you can do something for me in return."

"We are going to find the werewolves that have made the hunters sick, Keeper. I swear to you; we'll do anything in our power to help end this curse."

Marethari's smile faded. "I know that, _da'len_. But you must keep your wits about you. I do not believe that Zathrian has told us everything about this curse."

"What do you mean?"

"I believe that he knows more than he has told us, so I beg you to be careful when you search out the werewolves. But that is not what I wished to ask. I wish for you to speak with Merrill."

"Merrill? Why? Is she okay?" Ashara looked around the camp, but didn't see the young woman. Normally she followed after Marethari like a second shadow, but so far Ashara hadn't seen her.

"She is out with some of our hunters, to help protect them against the werewolf curse while they gather food for our Clans." The Keeper shook her head sadly. "Merrill has been troubled lately; she is taking her first steps down a dark path, one that I cannot talk her out of. Perhaps you can succeed where I have failed."

Ashara was confused. What could Merrill be doing that would be so bad? "What has she done?"

"I shall let her be the one to tell you. But it is my hope that you can bring her back to the path of our people."

Ashara hesitated. She had no idea what the Keeper was talking about, but at the same time she didn't think Merrill would listen to her. "I don't know if I can convince her of _anything_, Keeper. She and I... well, after I was chosen as First, surely you saw how our friendship suffered?"

"Yes, I know. But she has missed you greatly since you left us. I had hoped that she would grow close to the Clan, but she keeps her distance from them, and they do not know what to say to her."

Ashara grimaced. She was well acquainted with how the Clan judged Merrill so harshly, all because she was awkward around others. When they were little, Ashara had always defended her; Merrill was a sweet girl, just nervous and flighty. "Very well; after we've found a way to cure the hunters, I'll see if I can talk to her."

"_Ma serannas, da'len_."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Vhenadahl - literally: Tree of the People; the large tree in the center of each alieange<br>Andaran atish'an - a formal greeting  
>Ma serannas - thank you<br>Ma nuvenin - as you wish  
>Aneth ara - informal greeting<br>da'len - child/children  
>lethallin - kinsman, friend; used for male<br>lethallan - kinsman, friend; used for female_

_If you play as a Dalish Warden, you get to meet Pol, who says that he came from the alienage, and was welcomed into your Clan. If you play as a city elf, you get to meet Taeodor, who says that his brother ran off to find the Dalish. Bioware never comes out and says that they're brothers, but I figured it would nice for Kali to meet a friend._

_Ashara's growing up ;] This is the first time she's really admitted that the ragtag group of people following her are her friends. Maybe she'll even calm down a bit from her irritable attitude :D_

_Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, and requesting alerts!  
><em>


	29. Promises to Keep

_As always, I want to give a huge thanks, and lots of hugs, to my awesome beta, Kira Tamarion. She's been such a huge help, always patient and always awesome. She's got a new story that she's writing called: What Once Was Ours. I highly recommend that you take a look at it. She's slowly managing to spin almost every myth and piece of history in Dragon Age world into one awesome story. You won't be disappointed._

* * *

><p><strong>Promises to Keep<strong>

Kali glanced around nervously, trying to peer through the dark shadows as if she could make out shapes hiding in the trees, or behind the bushes. "You know, this forest seems a lot more threatening, now that we know that werewolves are hiding in it."

Oghren swung his giant axe over his shoulder, and peered up at her. "Nothin' to be nervous about. If they come for us, we'll kill 'em."

Ashara pulled her slim hand away from the trunk of a thick tree, frowning thoughtfully. "I'd rather figure out _why_ they're attacking the _Elvhenan_ first, so that this doesn't happen again." She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "But the trees won't tell me anything; I can't even get them to show me where the wolves are hiding."

Tamlen looked at her with a worried expression. "What does that mean?"

She bit her thumbnail. "I don't know, but if I had to guess I'd say that maybe the forest is protecting the werewolves."

"The forest is protecting them?" Kali whispered incredulously. "Why would it do that?"

Ashara looked a bit apprehensive. "I don't know."

Well _that_ certainly didn't make Kali feel better. It was bad enough to know that werewolves were lurking somewhere, waiting to attack them, but now the very trees themselves might turn against them? She sighed. "You know, I never knew that Ferelden was such a dangerous place. First there were those demonic spiders in the Deep Roads, then that horrible Flemeth dragon, and now evil werewolves!"

Zevran laughed. "You are an adventurer now, my lovely _querida_. This is what happens to adventurers."

Kali couldn't help but giggle nervously. Zevran always had a way of putting things into a humorous light; he had a way of making her feel more confident in what they were doing.

Ashara's fingers danced lightly across the hilt of a dagger strapped to her belt. She sighed a bit wistfully. "I still wish we could have brought more than just the five of us."

Kali looked at her curiously. Ashara had been tense and distracted ever since they started their search for the werewolves. She kept mumbling under her breath, or fidgeting with the sleeves of her robe; it was completely unlike her; Kali couldn't figure out what was wrong.

Tamlen looked at her sympathetically. "I know, _vulpasha_, but if we brought the rest of the group, we'd have made too much noise. This way, we have a better chance of staying silent and sneaking up on the werewolves."

Ashara nodded, but still her hand danced lightly around her dagger. "Well, let's just get this over with. The sooner we find these creatures, the sooner we can go back to the camp."

Kali frowned in thoughtful silence as she followed everyone deeper into the forest. Maybe Ashara was just nervous for her people. Pol had explained all about the werewolf curse, and how the magic of the Keepers was powerless against it. Maybe Ashara was worried that more of the Dalish would die.

They walked deeper into the forest, until the sun was completely blocked out by the large copse of trees. Kali felt like she was walking into some sort of lair; it was dark, ominous, and she noticed that she couldn't even hear birds chirping. She may not know much about life in a forest, but she _did_ know that silence was strange.

Tamlen suddenly stopped and held his arm out; Kali almost collided into him. "Be careful; something is coming towards us."

Quick as a flash, Ashara whipped her daggers out of her belt and clutched them tightly. "Is it the werewolves?" Her voice was tense.

"I... think it might be."

Sure enough, Kali soon heard something large crashing through the forest. Three werewolves soon broke through the brush, and crawled towards them on all four legs. Kali swallowed nervously; they were even more frightening than she had imagined. Taller than normal wolves, they were powerfully built, with thick muscles and matted fur that gave them a wild and savage look. Ashara looked as though she wanted to run, but she rigidly held her ground and lifted her head, glaring contemptuously at them.

The wolves stopped a few feet away from the group and stood up on their hind legs, making them at once even more powerful and frightening. One of the wolves, with amber colored fur and hard black eyes, scratched idly at his belly with his long claws, and growled. "Look my brothers." Kali felt her stomach drop; no one had told her that the werewolves could speak. "More of the Dalish, come to put us in our place."

Kali winced at the sound of his voice. He sounded exactly like she would have imagined a wolf to sound, if she had ever thought to wonder about it. The words were rumbling and deep, with an aggressive tone to it that made Kali think that he was about to attack.

Ashara lifted her head and took a step towards the creature. Kali noticed that she didn't look as tense and nervous as before; she assumed a powerful and commanding stance. "Yes, I am Dalish," Ashara said firmly; her normally lyrical voice was deep and seductive, as if she was trying to convince the wolves to trust her. "We have come to stop you from slaughtering my kin."

The werewolf made a noise that sounded like something between a growl and a bark. If Kali didn't know any better, she'd think he was laughing at them. "You speak to Swiftrunner; we know that you were sent by your treacherous kin to kill Witherfang, but we will not allow that to happen." He lowered his head and growled deeply at Ashara. "Know that your foolish actions will have little merit; we will bring death to all of the Dalish."

Kali watched Ashara's face color with anger. "I don't care _what_ your name is." Her words were an angry hiss. "You will tell us where you keep Witherfang hidden, or you will suffer the consequences."

Swiftrunner drew himself up to his full height; compared to him, Ashara looked small and vulnerable. Kali wanted to tell her to back away, to get away before he attacked her. But her voice seemed frozen in her throat. "The forest protects us," Swiftrunner said. "It is here where we learn our names, and know we are beloved. The trees will never allow you to find Witherfang."

Ashara scowled up at him. "I am no ordinary Dalish, wolf. I am First." Kali noticed that as she spoke, she was subtly shifting her hands so that her palms faced the ground. "This forest is my kin."

Kali felt the wind pick up, and heard a rushing sound in her ears. Suddenly, the ground began to shake, and before she had time to figure out what was happening, thick roots sprouted up from the earth, surrounding the werewolves in a twisted, wooden cage. The wolves began to howl and beat against the roots, but it seemed to make little difference. They were trapped.

Ashara clenched her daggers tightly, and glared at the wolves. "Now, tell me where Witherfang is or I will kill you."

The werewolves made no answer. Instead, they continued to beat their shoulders against the cage of roots, over and over until Kali heard the wood snap. Ashara raised her hand to try to stop them, but with one final beat against the cage, the wolves were free. Kali tensed and prepared herself for a fight, but Swiftrunner only glared at Ashara. Kali could see blood on his muzzle from where the roots had caught him.

"You had best turn back elf, or you will die." Without another word, the three wolves sped off through the forest.

Ashara exhaled deeply, and for the first time Kali noticed that she was trembling. Tamlen swiftly went to her and put a gentle hand on her arm. "Are you alright, _vulpasha_?"

She took a deep breath. "Werewolves are bad enough, but why did it have to be _talking_ werewolves?"

Kali looked at the Dalish woman curiously. "Are you nervous?"

Ashara shook her head, as if trying to clear her mind. "Wolves are evil, wicked beasts, kin to Fen'Harel. Werewolves are even more corrupted." She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "But if we have to seek out the werewolf lair to find Witherfang and cure the _Elvhenan_, then that's what we're going to do."

"You don't think the forest will keep us out?" Kali asked.

"Not at all; the forest would _never_ stand against a First or Keeper. The trees might not help us find the wolves, but they certainly won't turn against us."

oOo

Kira stood in the lively and bustling Dalish camp, inspecting the beautiful weapons that the Clan's craftsman had created. He had been a bit wary of her at first, but after she had exclaimed over the fine skill of his work, he seemed pleased at the chance to show off to a human.

She picked up a stunningly gorgeous longsword, and watched it shimmer in the sunlight. The blade was made of a strange type of metal that seemed to sparkle, and the hilt was carved with beautiful decorations of swirls and patterns. "I have never seen such metal before, Master craftsman. May I ask what it is?" She had a soft spot for beautiful swords.

"Please, child, the others of the Clan call me Master Varathorn." He smiled smugly. "That sword is made of rare ironbark. Only those of the _Elvhenan_ are able to bend it to our will."

"Really? I have never heard of ironbark." She tested the balance of the blade; it was absolutely perfect. Sturdy, firm, and comfortable in her hands. "You are a true Master, indeed. I know of no human craftsman who have such skill." She kept her eyes down so that he wouldn't see her amusement. Hopefully he wouldn't pick up on the obvious flattery, but the blade was a work of art and she wished to own it. He had to warm to her before he'd allow her to perform some task as a trade. She must tread carefully.

Master Varathorn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I have never met a sh... human, with your manners. Perhaps, if you would like to trade, I would be willing to part with it."

Kira shook her head sadly. "I have nothing of such value, Master Varathorn. Ashara is a fine leader; she keeps us well supplied with armor and weapons, but I am afraid that we have not much else to spare. I could offer money, I suppose, but Ashara has told me that coins are useless to the Dalish."

"That is true enough; we do not trade small coins of metal." Varathorn frowned, and then seemed to think of an idea. "Perhaps, if you would be willing to help me with a task, I could offer the sword in return."

Kira smiled sweetly, grateful that he came up with the idea without her having to persuade him. "That seems like a fair enough offer, Master Varathorn, and I should like to help out in whatever way possible."

"I am in need of more ironbark, but the Keepers will not allow anyone out into the forest except the hunters. And they are only allowed to hunt for food."

Kira bit her bottom lip, thinking rapidly. "And you wish for me to find you some ironbark?"

"That is exactly what I wish."

She inclined her head. Going into the forest right now could be dangerous; she couldn't risk such a thing until the werewolves were dead. "I shall do so, provided that Ashara can end this curse. I hope that is acceptable, Master Varathorn, but I do not wish to risk the lives of my fellow Wardens."

The Dalish man frowned deeply. "Yes, but if the hunters are cured, the Keepers will allow us entry into the forest. So why, then, would I need you to find it?"

Kira smiled at him. "When Ashara cures your hunters, I assume that your Clans will want to spend their time and energy ensuring their health and well-being. I doubt that anyone will think of collecting ironbark." She saw that he was hesitating, and decided to press further. "I will, of course, not ask for the sword until _after_ I have held up my end of the bargain."

"I suppose you have a point." He sighed, as if forced into a corner. "Very well. I will wait until after the hunters are cured."

"Thank you, Master Varathorn."

She gave the sword back to him, and glided off towards the south side of the camp, where her companions had set up their tents, eager to tell Alistair about her potential new sword. They often spent long hours comparing techniques and stances, and she knew that he would be pleased by her find.

But when she got to where their tents were set up, she saw that Alistair sat with his head bent over the pot of lamb stew, huddled into himself as if he was trying to ignore everything else. When he saw her approach, he grimaced and jerked his head towards their tents, where Kira saw that Morrigan and Wynne were glaring at each other, bickering like common fishwives.

"I know you are hiding something, young lady, and I won't have you dragging us into another dangerous fight!" Wynne said loudly.

Morrigan laughed mockingly at the Circle mage. "Of course you would wait for Ashara to leave, before you confronted me. Have you not spoken your fears to her? Or did she turn you away and tell you to mind your own affairs?"

Wynne scowled. "You have that poor girl fooled about your real intentions. How long before you drag us all down the dangerous path you are on?"

The witch narrowed her eyes. "There are greater things at risk here than you know, old woman, but I certainly don't owe you any answers."

Kira knew she had to end this before the two women started throwing fireballs at one another. She stepped in between them and put her hands up. "Ladies, I must ask that you refrain from behaving like children. Soon you will cause a scene, and I do not think that the Dalish would appreciate it."

Wynne tried to calm herself down, but her breathing was coming in hard gasps. "I won't have this apostate dragging us into another dangerous fight because of her lies."

"So this is merely because I am an apostate?" Morrigan sneered. "At least I am not a slave of the Chantry."

Kira barely heard Morrigan's comment; she was beginning to worry about Wynne. Sweat beaded her brows, and it looked as though she was having trouble breathing. "Wynne, are you alright?" The Circle mage tried to nod, but her eyes lost focus and she began to sway. Kira reached out and caught her just as she collapsed. "Alistair! Go fetch one of the Keepers! Hurry!"

He jumped up and ran off through the Dalish camp, while Kira slowly eased Wynne to the ground. She scrambled towards one of the tents and, careless of whose tent it was, grabbed a blanket, rolled it up, and set it under Wynne's head. As soon as she lifted the Circle mage's head, Wynne groaned softly and opened her eyes. "Wynne!"

"Oh my, that was... very unpleasant." She tried to sit up, but Kira gently pushed her back down.

"Wynne, you need to lie still. You fainted; Alistair is fetching one of the Keepers."

"Oh, I don't need a healer. I'm fine, dear."

Kira shook her head. "You are _not_ fine. A woman doesn't just faint for no reason. Please, just relax until one of the healers can check you over and find out what the problem is."

Wynne didn't have much choice but to comply, though she was clearly unhappy about it. But she didn't have long to wait; soon Alistair came running back with a young elven woman that Kira didn't recognize. She wasn't one of the Keepers, but she carried a staff and was clearly a mage. Perhaps she could still help.

She shifted nervously, and anxiously twisted her hands around the staff, keeping her head bowed. "Um, hello, my name is Merrill, and Keeper Zathrian asked if I, well actually he _told_ me, to come see what the problem was."

Kira looked at the tiny girl; she seemed as if she was about to faint. "Are you a healer?"

Merrill continued to shift nervously. "Well, Keeper Marethari is a much better healer than I am, but she's trained me a little, and well, I don't know where she is, so I can't ask her to check on your friend, but I think I can help, I mean, at least I'll try to help."

Kira tried to keep her smile on her face, but she was struggling to control her impatience. If this young girl was trained by a Keeper, she must be a First, similar to Ashara. But no two elves could ever be more different. "Well, Merrill, we're grateful for any help that you can provide." She tried to keep her voice light and calm. "My friend Wynne just suddenly collapsed, and we wish to make sure that she's alright."

Merrill nodded, and knelt down beside Wynne. She laid her staff aside, and held out her hands over the Circle mage. Kira watched as a glowing blue light began to swim around the two women. Merrill closed her eyes; her hands fluttered lightly through the air as she sent waves of energy towards Wynne. Finally, she cut off the flow of magic and sat back on her heels, staring at Wynne with something of a curious expression.

"Is something wrong?" Kira asked.

Wynne sat up, and tried to brush Merrill aside. "No, nothing is wrong. I am fine."

But Merrill shook her head. "No, no I don't think you're fine. Um, there's something, something inside you but I don't know what it is."

Kira heard Morrigan suddenly laugh; she had forgotten that the witch was still there. "Such hypocrisy, just as Ashara and I suspected."

Kira sighed. "Merrill, is Wynne healthy?" She wanted to make sure that Wynne would be fine, before she started questioning her.

The young elven mage nodded. "Well, she's physically healthy."

Kira smiled, trying to keep her face composed, as if she wasn't burning up with a thousand different questions. "Thank you, Merrill. We appreciate your help." Merrill nodded, got to her feet and fluttered off without another word, as if eager to put as much distance between her and the humans as possible. When she was gone, Kira turned her attention back to Wynne. "What did she mean, that something is inside of you?"

"Yes," Morrigan taunted, "please tell us all what the elven mage meant."

Wynne hesitated, but Kira leaned forward. "Was she wrong?"

"No. No, she was not mistaken." The Circle mage looked at Kira nervously. "There is something that I must tell you." She sighed. "And then I suppose I will have to tell Ashara."

oOo

Ashara stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the crumbling pillars and broken door that lead to a strange underground temple. She glanced back at her companions with something of a smug look, trying to mask her nervousness under a veneer of arrogance. "See? I told you we'd find it."

Kali wrinkled her little nose. "This place smells like wet dog."

Zevran laughed. "We are in Ferelden, my little Warden. The whole country smells of wet dog."

The little rogue giggled and smiled up at him. "Well, at least this place _does_ smell better than the alienage."

Ashara wanted to laugh with her, it was quite cute to watch how Kali blushed and tried to flirt with the assassin, but she could feel her lips trembling. By the Creators, she hated wolves. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been scared of them. She tried to justify it by convincing herself that all wolves were kin to Fen'Harel; they all carried his taint of madness and deceit. But every time she encountered a wolf, she was struck by such an irrational fear that she felt frozen to the spot. There was just something about the set of their yellow eyes, or their sharp teeth and dark muzzle that made her fear them.

Tamlen shot her a worried look; he was the only one who knew of her irrational fear, but she shook her head and continued forward. She wasn't a _da'len_ anymore. These werewolves were enemies like any other, and they could be killed just as easily. But despite her reassurances, she still placed a protective hand on the swell of her stomach, as if she could protect her unborn baby.

They entered the dark, dusty ruins, and Ashara was immediately accosted by the scent of stale air, dank mold, and thick dust. The trees outside blocked out the sun; even though there were holes in the roof, there was almost no light in this place. Ashara inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering the last time she had set foot in something like this. "Tamlen, this is just like the ruins that held the _eluvian_."

Kali stepped forward, looking down at the room below them. "What's an _eluvian_?"

"The word itself means mirror. I think the word was used to refer to a special type of mirror from Arlathan, but among the Dalish it's used for any type of mirror." She glanced at the little rogue. "It's what made Tamlen and I tainted, and caused Duncan to bring us to the Grey Wardens."

She walked over to one of the broken pillars, and brushed off a thick layer of dust. Flowing script was written around the thick base; the symbols were old and faded, but Ashara could recognize one of the words. "_Enassal_. A gift, or a blessing." She sat back on her heels and looked at her friends. "These words are Elvish."

Tamlen picked up one of the rocks and inspected it. "This is so strange. Our Clan is only one of many who have camped in the Brecilian Forest for generations. But we've never heard of any sort of underground ruins." He let the rock fall. "And yet this is the second one we've found in nearly seven months. One was haunted by walking corpses and darkspawn, and now this one is inhabited by werewolves?"

Ashara looked around, searching for anything that might give some sort of clue as to what this place was. "I don't see any statues of the Creators, though." Could it be that they had just fallen into dust after so long?

"Do you think elves once lived here?" Zevran asked curiously.

"I don't know." Ashara tried to read what was written around the base of the pillar, but she couldn't make out any of the other words. "The Keeper once told me that there were rumors of a race of elves that lived underground, but there's nothing to prove or deny it. But only our ancestors would have been able to write in Elvish. From what our history tells us, the Tevinter magisters never fully mastered our language. I suppose it's possible that they learned enough to write or read it, but why would humans build something like this, and then scatter it with our language?"

Oghren walked up to one of the walls and ran a hand over it. "I can tell you that dwarves didn' build this place. We know better than to use such a sodding pathetic type of stone."

So that meant that either humans or elves had to have built this place. Ashara lifted her chin. "We'll study the ruins later; for now, we need to press on. The longer it takes us to find Witherfang's heart, the greater the risk for our hunters."

They walked down the stairs towards a large chamber, climbing over piles of rubble along the way. The whole place seemed to be falling apart, but Ashara was still amazed that the Dalish had never spoken of it. How had they never noticed such a magnificent place? She was about to throw open the large door at the end of the chamber, but her eyes caught a small room, set off the side. For some reason, she felt inexplicably drawn to it.

"Hang on, I want to see what's in here." The others followed her to the room, which looked to have once been used for storage. Shelves covered almost every inch of the walls, but they were all empty, as if whatever once stood there had long since crumbled to dust. The only thing that seemed to be intact was a gray stone altar, set against the far wall.

"What's this?" Kali suddenly asked. She reached out towards one of the shelves, and held up a beautiful translucent silver vial, set on a chain. Inside the vial was some sort of dark liquid. "Wait, is that...?" She squeaked and dropped the vial. "I think that's blood!"

"Blood?" Tamlen asked. "Does it belong to the werewolves?"

"I don't think the werewolves are capable of any magic like that." Ashara knelt down and picked up the vial. Kali was quite right; the thick dark liquid certainly was blood. She inspected the symbols around the rim. "I don't recognize any of these markings."

A deep, overwhelming sense of hopelessness suddenly washed over Ashara. She let out a soft cry; it felt as though all the light in the world had been extinguished. She glanced up and saw Kali sniff and wipe her eyes, while Tamlen and Zevran squeezed their eyes shut, as if to hold back tears.

Oghren rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. "I... I think I need a drink." His voice was sad.

Ashara felt something flicker in the amulet; it shivered and cried out in pain. Ashara tried to swallow back the sadness that pushed at her mind. "I think...there's something trapped in here."

The entity stopped shivering. She felt a strange sense of nervous hope, as if a thread of relief had been dangled in front of her. The blood in the vial began to sparkle, as if the entity wanted them to stay. "What happened to you?"

At once, Ashara was confronted by a vision of such power that she had to bite her knuckles to keep from crying out. She saw beautiful, dark-skinned elves running through the forest, their light hair shimmering against the sunlight as they lifted their weapons to the sky and shouted out a war cry to the heavens. The vision flickered and she saw a frightened mage, hiding in a dark room while someone banged against the blocked door. The elf looked around frantically, before finally realizing that there was no way out. She could see the hope drain out of him; she wanted to shout out, to warn him to stop, but the man brought a knife across his dark arm, and held up a vial to catch his blood.

As swiftly as it came, the vision disappeared. Ashara looked around the room and saw that her friends were blinking rapidly and rubbing their eyes.

"What was that?" Kali whispered nervously.

"I think... we just saw what happened to this poor soul." Somehow Ashara had fallen to her knees; she stood back up and looked at the vial in her hand. "You trapped yourself, because you wanted to live?" She looked around the small room. "Does that mean that this was your home? Elves really lived here?"

The liquid shimmered and tried to respond, but it had no answer to give. The entity was losing its memories to time. Ashara wouldn't get any answers out of it. "Is there some way we can help you?"

The blood sparkled and shifted; Ashara saw the image of a powerful elven mage, carrying two enchanted daggers as well as any rogue she had ever met. The mage stood behind a glittering silver wall that looked something like a spell shield, but appeared to be far more powerful. She saw herself standing beside the mage, taking one of his daggers. Then the vision shifted, and she saw herself placing the vial on an altar. The vision ended.

"What type of magic was that?" Tamlen asked.

Again, Ashara saw herself taking one of the daggers, and then placing the vial on the altar. The meaning was clear. "If I help you, will you show me that magic?"

The blood began to glow and shiver in excitement. She could feel the entity's eagerness to be destroyed, to finally find eternal peace. "Very well; I'll help you."

Kali pointed to the far wall. "I wonder if it means that altar over there. Maybe this is the room where he trapped himself."

Ashara walked over to the altar and set the amulet on it. At once, she felt the knowledge of ancient spells grow in her mind. She watched mages cast the spells, and learned the spoken words. A shining flicker of hope emanated from the entity, and she felt it send out its thanks as it was swept into oblivion.

"_Mahamin atisha su'melana_," Ashara whispered.

There was a silence for a time, and then Tamlen exhaled deeply. "Well, that was strange. Did the spirit teach you the spells?"

Ashara nodded, feeling strangely at peace. She had just learned ancient spells of her people, spells that had long since been forgotten, but instead of laughing and prancing around the room, delighted at the find, she felt humbled. She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks to Sylaise, for guiding her to this place. "We're going to need to take all of this information to Keeper Marethari; perhaps she can tell us what's going on."

Zevran nodded slowly. "It is so strange; there is so much of our people that has been lost to us. Perhaps this place can help us to learn."

Kali clapped her hands together in awe. "I _never_ would have imagined that elves once lived underground."

Ashara looked at the vial; it was empty and clean. If she hadn't seen it firsthand, she never would have guessed that the blood of a mage once sat there. She picked it up and put it in her pocket to show to the Keeper. "You're right, there _is_ a lot that we don't know about our past. But I do know that there seems to be too many strange occurrences going on, all of them hinting towards our past. And after the Blight, we're going to find answers."

oOo

Ashara stepped through the shimmering silver shield, and felt her insides jerk as she let the magic go and cut off her connection to the Beyond. The magic that the entity taught her showed her how truly powerful her ancestors were. She never in a million years would have guessed that they had the power to step partly into the Beyond, as a way of protecting themselves!

She glanced at Tamlen, who was retrieving his arrows from the dead werewolves. "Now, you have no reason to complain about how dangerous it is for me to fight while pregnant." She placed a hand on the curve of her belly, and smiled down at it. "That shield that the spirit taught me protects me against almost everything."

Tamlen chuckled, and inspected one of his arrowheads. "Do you really expect me to stop worrying about you? You must not know me very well." Ashara smiled at him, her nervousness momentarily forgotten.

Kali pulled one of her throwing daggers out of a werewolf's head, and wiped the blood off on its fur. "Do you think we're at least close to the werewolf lair?"

Ashara shrugged, trying to look calm. "I hope so."

The five of them walked down the large set of stairs that led to the next room. Ashara tried to keep her head up, and her breathing steady. She reminded herself that they'd already killed at least ten of the wolves; there was no reason for her to be afraid of them.

But when they entered the next room, Ashara felt her heart plummet. Standing in the very center, was four very large werewolves. They were on their hind legs and remained calm; they didn't rush at them like all the others, so Ashara inhaled deeply and stopped where she was.

One of them took a step forward; he was a dark, evil looking werewolf, with tufts of fur missing from his face, and a scar across his eye. He regarded the group warily. "I have come to tell you there need be no more bloodshed. We ask if you are willing to parlay."

"Parlay?" Thank Mythal her voice was steady; it even sounded a bit sarcastic. "I hope you don't actually expect us to believe you, considering how many of your brethren attacked us."

The wolf nodded, and scratched his chest, almost as if he was unconcerned by their deaths. "That was before. But the Lady believes that you do not know of all the circumstances, and has asked us to bring you to her. So I ask again; are you willing to parlay?"

Ashara hesitated, and glanced at her friends.

Kali shifted. "It could be a trap... right? But... if they really want to stop fighting, maybe we should think about it?"

"I don't know what to think." Zevran rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "This is quite an unusual tactic."

"If they trick us, we'll kill 'em," Oghren shrugged.

Tamlen gripped tightly to an arrow, ready to notch it if he needed to. "We might not have such an easy time killing them if they lead us straight into an ambush."

Ashara turned back to the werewolves. "Why doesn't your Lady come here? Why would she expect us to trust you?"

The wolf took another step forward, and Ashara studied his body movement carefully. Very few people could lie to a Keeper; she wanted to try to see if he was speaking the truth. She was skilled in studying body language; the slightest twitch of the eye, the barest shifting of the feet would give him away.

"We understand that you are skeptical, but the Lady has asked that I bring you to her in peace. I give you my word that we will not attack you, so long as you show no threat to our Lady."

Ashara took care to keep her face neutral, to hold back the fear that threatened to rise at the thought of walking into their lair. It seemed as though this wolf was speaking the truth, and so she nodded slowly. "Very well." She didn't want to do this, but Marethari's warnings were ringing in her ear. If there was a chance to find out what Zathrian was hiding, she had to take it. She had to find out _why_ the werewolves were attacking her people.

She held up a hand and lowered her voice, trying to make herself look as threatening as possible. "But let me warn you now; if you are planning to lead us into an ambush, I will kill all of you and bind your souls, so that you wander restlessly for all eternity, never to find peace."

The wolf nodded; Ashara noticed that he didn't look nervous, or even glance at his companions. Perhaps he really _was_ telling the truth. He turned and walked into the next room, with Ashara and her group walking behind them.

When they entered the next room, Ashara felt as though all the blood drained out of her face; she instantly placed a protective hand over her stomach, wanting to shield her baby from this nightmare. Dozens of werewolves were crowded all around the room, their haunches raised as they growled and snapped. Ashara wanted to close her eyes and run from the room. Why did there have to be so many of them?

They were lead to the back of the room, where another cluster of wolves stood. Ashara recognized Swiftrunner standing at the front of the group, glaring at them with unveiled hatred. He lowered his head and growled, when a woman stepped out from the shadows and walked towards the front. She placed a gentle hand on Swiftrunner's shoulder; he immediately relaxed and knelt down before her.

Ashara's first thought was that this woman looked strangely similar to Sylaise. But as she studied the woman further, she realized that they were quite different. Sylaise had been a beautiful elf, while this woman had the body of a human. Instead of brown skin the rich color of the earth, this woman had a greenish hue to her body. But the aura of peace that she gave off, the calm sweetness that she exuded was the same.

She watched Ashara with dark eyes. "I bid you welcome, mortals."

Swiftrunner jumped back up to his feet, but kept himself crouched down as if ready to attack. "Do not speak with them, Lady. We must kill them now, before they attack you!"

The Lady shook her head sadly. "Hush, Swiftrunner. Your urge for battle has only seen the deaths of the very ones you swore to protect. Is that what you want?"

Swiftrunner fell to his knees again. "No, my Lady. Anything but that."

"Then allow me to speak with these strangers." She lifted her head and looked at the group. "I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf. He struggles with his nature."

Ashara was feeling very confused; this woman seemed to be the leader of the wolves, but she certainly didn't seem vicious or savage. If anything, she gave of an aura similar to that of the forest, peaceful and eternal. Something wasn't right. She certainly wasn't mortal, but she wasn't a Creator, either. What was she? "As do we all." Ashara's words were hesitant; she wanted to learn who this woman really was, and how she was connected to the werewolves.

The Lady nodded. "Truer words were never spoken. But few can claim the struggle that these poor souls must endure." She lifted her head and regarded Ashara with a sad look. "No doubt you have questions, mortal. There are things that Zathrian has not told you."

Ashara swallowed nervously. She could hear Marethari's voice in her mind, warning her that Zathrian was hiding something. But this woman was still connected to the werewolves, no matter how peaceful and sweet she seemed. Ashara would be a fool to believe anything she said.

But she couldn't just attack them. She _had_ to know why her people were being killed, so that this tragedy didn't happen again. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, and that no matter which step she took, it would lead to an answer that she didn't want. "And... what hasn't he told me?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>eluvian - it's used for the enchanted mirrors that the elves of Arlathan used for communication and travel, but the word literally means 'mirror'<br>da'len - child/children  
>enassal - gift or blessing<br>Mahamin atisha su'melana - May you find peace for all eternity_

_There's a couple of notes that I feel the need to explain: I don't care what Merrill's spell set is during DA2. A Keeper is responsible for healing and protecting the Clan, so I'd assume that she'd at least know a little bit of healing magic. Even if she's a blood mage, she could still heal. She might not be that great at it, but I figured she'd at least be able to know a bit of healing magic._

_I was going to go through the whole part of the forest, with the mad hermit and the rhyming tree, and trying to get something that could lead you through the mist. But then I remembered that Zathrian makes his way to the temple and tells you that a forest would never keep a Keeper out, so I assumed that it would be similar for Ashara. _

_As far as the ruins, if you play as a Dalish Warden, no one bothers to mention that the werewolf lair is littered with elven artifacts. I think Alistair might make a comment about it, but I can't remember. Anyway, it's always bothered me that as a Dalish Warden, you suddenly find two ruins that could help your people discover their past, and no one even blinks about the second one. That's why I went into more detail with this treaty than the others. I hope it doesn't confuse anyone, but Kira gave me her advice: If it has something to do with the story overall, go ahead and give detail. If it doesn't, then don't worry about it.  
><em>

_Alright, notes are done. Thank you to everyone reviewing, reading, or requesting alerts. This story has gotten way more feedback and support than I ever thought possible, and I can't tell you guys how grateful I am for it :D_


	30. From Pride to Shame

_Many, many thanks to Kira Tamarion, for her awesome beta skills, and her endless encouragement :D_**_  
><strong>Warning:<strong> _**_This first part has a small portion that mentions rape. It doesn't go into detail, but if such subjects bother you, skip to the next section._

* * *

><p><strong>From Pride to Shame<strong>

The underground werewolf lair was dark, cold, and unwelcoming, like some sort of deep tomb where souls were trapped for all eternity. Kali felt a chill run down her spine, and found herself inching closer to Zevran, as if just by his presence the assassin could banish her fears. She tossed a nervous glance around the room; the wolves scattered around them were no longer crouched and snapping, but they continued to growl at the group, ready to attack. She couldn't deny that she was afraid of them. Sure, she and her friends had killed a few of them on their trip into the lair, but there had to be at least thirty wolves around them. If it came to a fight, she didn't think they'd be able to come out of this alive.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, Kali sent up a silent prayer to Mythal, begging her to protect them. _Please, don't let us die down here._ She inhaled deeply, and felt as if a sort of peace wrapped itself around her. Whether it was actually Mythal answering her prayer, or just her own mind calming down on its own, she couldn't say.

It took a lot of effort, but she managed to ignore the growling wolves glaring at them, and instead focused on Ashara, who was watching the Lady of the Forest with something of a wary look on her face. The Dalish woman kept her hands balled up into fists, but Kali could still see sparks of light dancing between the crevices of her fingers. She recognized gesture; Ashara was either very irritated, or very anxious, or both.

"How do you know what Zathrian has or hasn't told us?" the Dalish woman demanded.

The Lady bowed her head, as if pained by what it was she had to say. Finally, she raised her eyes and studied the group with something of a sad look on her ageless face. "There are things that he would never speak of; things that he would never admit to. That is how I know." She raised her head higher, and looked Ashara in the eye. "It was Zathrian who created this curse."

It was as if time froze. The wolves stopped growling, and instead watched the group with quiet malice. The silence was so sharp that Kali could have heard a pin drop. Then, Ashara lifted her chin and regarded the Lady skeptically. "You expect me to believe that a Keeper would intentionally bring such suffering to his people? Not even Zathrian would do that."

The Forest Spirit shook her head. "You misunderstand, mortal. It was not his intention to bring about the death of his hunters." She lowered her eyes, almost as if sad about the number of Dalish that had died. "That... came later." She glanced around at all the wolves. "The curse began when Zathrian was a young man. He had just become Keeper to his Clan, and had two beautiful children that he adored. But then, the Clan passed through this forest, near a human village, and his children were captured."

Swiftrunner held his muzzle by his thick paws, almost like even he was saddened by what had happened. "The boy, they tortured and killed. The girl, they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, and nursed her back to health, but when she discovered that she was pregnant, she took her own life."

Ashara closed her eyes and inhaled deeply; Kali had a sudden urge to put her arms around the Dalish woman. She knew that Ashara was thinking about Tianna, the little girl who couldn't protect herself from the brutality of the humans, just like Zathrian's daughter.

Tamlen's face was a dark mask of anger. "So Zathrian cursed them? Good, I hope they suffered." He practically spit the words out. "I hope they spent the rest of their wretched lives in pain, suffering as they made two of the _Elvhenan_ suffer."

The Lady nodded. "Indeed they did. Zathrian was consumed by grief over the loss of his children. He came to this forest and summoned a powerful and ancient spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf. And so Witherfang came to be."

Kali watched as Ashara touched the swirling tattoo that wove around her slim neck, the symbol of her love for Sylaise, Goddess of the Forest. "So Witherfang did as Zathrian commanded and cursed the humans, turning them into werewolves." She lifted her head, her violet eyes narrowed. "Then you attacked the _Elvhenan _for revenge?"

The Lady looked around at the wolves. "In part, though that was not our only reason." She turned her attention back to the group; Kali watched her eyes flicker between them all. "We seek to end this curse. The crimes that were committed against Zathrian's children were grave, and the humans deserved their fate. But those crimes occurred centuries ago by those who are long dead."

She swept a long arm out around her, towards the wolves who watched her silently. "These poor souls have done nothing to the _Elvhenan_; they do not deserve this curse. We sent messages to Zathrian each time the landships passed this way, and each time he failed to respond." Her eyes narrowed; for the first time she looked dangerous and threatening. "We will no longer be ignored."

Swiftrunner growled low. "We spread the curse to his people, so that he will be forced to end it."

Ashara kept her face an emotionless mask, but Kali knew exactly what she was thinking, as clear as if the Dalish woman had given voice to her thoughts. She knew that Ashara was torn. Torn between worry for her people, anger at what the humans had done, pity for these werewolves, and shock that a Keeper would cause all of this. Kali took a hesitant step closer to her. Ashara looked at her; Kali could see all of those conflicting emotions swirling around in her dark eyes.

"Ashara," she said quietly, "if the Lady is telling the truth, then she's right. This curse should be ended. No one deserves to live like this, not even humans, and if we don't find a way to stop it the _Elvhenan_ are only going to suffer more."

The Dalish woman looked at Kali as if she couldn't really see her. For a second, Kali thought that she didn't hear her, and wondered if she should repeat the words. But then Ashara sighed heavily, as if trying to steady her emotions, and nodded. "Yes, I think you're right, _lethallan_."

She reached a white hand out and grasped Kali's tightly, giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. She lifted her head higher, and put a hand to the swell of her stomach. The Lady and the wolves all watched her carefully, knowing that their desire to end the curse might well be decided in the next few moments. "As much as it pains me to admit it, Zathrian was wrong. I... can understand why he wanted the _shemlen_ who abused his children to pay, but this curse has gone on for too long. Now it is spreading to innocents who don't deserve it, including his own people, whom he should be protecting."

The Lady's face broke out into a beautiful smile; she looked as peaceful as the forest spirit she claimed to be. "Thank you, mortals." Her dark eyes traveled to Kali, and her smile widened. "You must go and find Zathrian; bring him here. If he sees these wolves, hears of their plight, he will not be without mercy."

Ashara bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. "He's not stupid. Why would he agree to come down here by himself, especially if he knew that we would try to force him to end the curse?"

The Lady raised herself to her full height. "Tell Zathrian this: if he does not come, if he does not end this curse, he will _never_ find Witherfang, and this curse will continue until his entire Clan is dead. I possess the power to hide Witherfang forever, and I shall do so if he refuses to come."

Ashara inclined her head, but Kali caught the anger that sparked in her eyes. She knew that the Dalish woman was working herself up into a rage over what Zathrian had done. "Very well; we will tell him."

oOo

The Dalish Clan was bursting with sound and energy as members went about their daily tasks; cooking, sewing, practicing their archery, or mixing potions for the sick hunters. Snatches of songs drifted to Kira's ears, but she was too preoccupied to notice. All she could seem to focus on was Wynne, as the Circle mage hesitantly explained to her and Alistair what it was that Merrill had seen.

"So you're an abomination?" Kira's words came out a bit harsher than she had intended; she bit back the rest of her thoughts, so as not to be too hard on her, at least not until she had learned everything. Wynne was a good woman; she was kind, sweet, and always looked out for the interests of others, though Kira couldn't help but see the hypocrisy. The Circle mage was constantly cautioning others of the danger that Morrigan posed; she seemed to believe that the witch was only one spell away from becoming possessed, yet now _she_ was the one inhabited by an entity from the Fade?

Wynne pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I am not an abomination, at least, not by your standards. It is a Spirit of Faith that is inside me, not a demon."

Alistair sat in stunned silence, but Kira shook her head. "I do not pretend to understand the Fade, but I have been told that there is no such thing as a 'good' possession. No matter what the spirit is, you are still possessed by a creature of the Fade. How can you be sure that this will not cause problems?" Not for the first time, Kira was grateful that she had managed to convince Morrigan to take flight into the forest, searching for some sign of when Ashara and the others would return. This conversation would certainly have been much more difficult with the witch's scathing remarks.

"Not all spirits are evil, child." Wynne folded her hands in her lap, as if preparing to educate them. "Some are demonic, of course, but there are good spirits in the Fade as well. Some are spirits of justice, compassion, faith, and inspiration. They do not seek to possess us; I believe they are what give shape to our dreams, and protect us while we sleep."

Kira shook her head, trying to follow and understand Wynne's words. She was torn on the issue. On the one hand she knew what the Chantry taught, that any sort of possession was wrong, and that the mage in question should be put to death. But on the other hand, she couldn't deny that Wynne was a good woman. She had known the Circle mage for three months now, and in that time had never seen Wynne do anything that could be considered threatening.

She glanced at Alistair. "What is your opinion?" He might not have gone through his final vows, but he was still trained as a templar, and would have a better idea of how to handle such a situation.

Alistair shrugged. "It doesn't matter if the spirit is good or evil; the Chantry would still be appalled, and wouldn't hesitate to shove a sword of mercy through her heart. But I don't think that the Chantry understands everything about magic, much as they try to claim otherwise." He looked at Wynne in a rare moment of seriousness. "I haven't seen you do anything that could be comparable to blood magic. You aren't violent, and your free will seems to be intact. Whatever this spirit is, it doesn't appear to be evil."

The Circle mage shook her head. "No, it isn't. It protected me when I needed it most, and has given much to keep me safe." She glanced down sadly. "I can feel its essence slowly draining away with each day that I live. I don't think the spirit intended such a thing when it protected me, but I can feel it slowly dying."

Despite being nervous about the situation, Kira couldn't help but be moved by the pain in her voice. She reached out a hand to the Circle mage. "Wynne, if this spirit is as you say, then there must be some reason that you were kept alive. The Maker works in mysterious ways; perhaps you were kept alive for a greater purpose."

Wynne smiled sadly. "That is what I would like to believe. And that is why, no matter what happens on this journey, I will aid you Grey Wardens against the Blight, whatever it costs."

Kira nodded; it seemed that there was little more to say. "I suppose, as long as this spirit does not pose a danger to us, there is not much that we can do." She glanced at Alistair, who nodded, before turning her attention back to Wynne. "But you know that you must tell Ashara, before Morrigan does."

The Circle mage frowned. "I know. She won't be happy."

"No, most likely not. But I doubt she will do much about it, except keep a watchful eye over you." Kira shrugged. "Ashara can be temperamental, and sometimes has a harsh tongue, but she is not stupid. She knows that you have been a help to her, that you healed her when she was hurt, and that you have helped to ease her fears over her child. I believe she will listen to you."

Wynne nodded. "Perhaps you are right." She sighed, as if coming to the end of a hard day's work. "Thank you both, for listening. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to rest. These old bones of mine tire easily these days." She slowly stood up and walked off to her tent, closing the flap behind her.

Kira waited until the Circle mage had disappeared into her tent, before shaking her head and glancing at Alistair. "Well, that was interesting."

He chuckled. " 'Interesting'? Yes, I suppose that's one way of thinking about it."

She smiled mischievously at him. "Though I suppose that we should have expected her to be hiding a secret, no? After all, it seems that the rest of you do." She ticked off all of their companions' secrets on her slim fingers. "You are really the son of King Maric, next in line for the throne, Leliana is in fact a dangerous bard, not the simple minstrel she claimed to be, Morrigan has an evil mother who wishes to possess her, and now Wynne is inhabited by a spirit of the Fade."

Alistair laughed. "Well when you put it that way, I guess you're right; we should have expected something like this. I wonder what the rest of you are hiding." He glanced slyly at her. "How about you? What's your secret? Let me guess, you secretly love to dance around in your smallclothes when no one's paying attention." He snickered. "Am I right?"

Kira drew her head up and pretended to look embarrassed. "Oh Maker, you discovered my secret! And here I thought I had done such a wonderful job of keeping it hidden!" For a time, the two of them giggled like naughty Lay Sisters, wiping tears from their eyes. When they had both calmed down and settled into a comfortable silence, Kira smiled sweetly at the ex-templar, not wishing to let this perfect opportunity slip by. "I would not wish to hide my thoughts from you, dear Alistair. If I did, how would you ever know what I feel for you?"

Alistair stared down at her, his cheeks flushed to an adorable shade of pink. Kira noticed that he didn't turn her comment aside, or suddenly begin acting uncomfortable. If anything, he looked only embarrassed. _So, even though he is nervous and shy, it seems that he doesn't mind the thought of me caring for him. That is good to know._ Slowly, she scooted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. When he didn't pull away or stiffen, she relaxed and closed her eyes.

She felt his arm wind around her shoulder, nervously, as if he was afraid to make a wrong move. Kira smiled; Alistair may not yet have the words to tell her how he felt, but his actions spoke just as loudly. And that was good enough for her.

oOo

Ashara swept up the stairs that led to the main room of the temple, barely paying attention to anything around her. She could hear Tamlen, Kali, Zevran, and Oghren muttering to each other about what Zathrian had done, but their words didn't seem to make any sense to her. It was as if they were speaking another language.

_How could he do that?_ she fumed, over and over again to herself. _How could he betray his people? _She could understand his anger well enough; after all, she had been in a similar position once, and knew well how potent the burning sense of rage could be. She could even accept his actions towards the _shemlen_ who caused the death of his children. But to go so far that his own people were suffering? To carry a curse for so long that the humans who had done nothing were now forced to attack the _Elvhenan_, in a desperate attempt to cure themselves? A Keeper was supposed to protect and care for their people; they were supposed to speak to the Creators on behalf of the _Elvhenan_, and ensure that the Clan was healthy and strong.

Though she could understand Zathrian's anger towards the _shemlen_ who killed his children, now that the Clan was dying, he should have ended the curse long ago. If he was the creator, he should have the power to end it. Ashara was a skilled enough mage to know that such a powerful curse was most likely caused by the power of life. Zathrian would have had to use his own life energy to fuel such a spell. She knew that most likely, his reason for keeping his involvement a secret was that he had no intention of giving his life to end it.

But that's what angered her the most.

A Keeper was supposed to sacrifice anything, _anything,_ for the welfare of their people. When performing the ritual to take the title, a Keeper knelt before their Clan, and swore to lay down their life if it would keep the _Elvhenan_ safe. In return, the Clan swore to do all that they could, even willingly go to their deaths, to prevent that. The bond between Keeper and Clan was sacred; each relied on the other, and Ashara was livid at the thought that a Keeper would betray that trust.

Her anger felt like a burning flame, curling up her body, feeding on her hatred for this man who betrayed their people; she could practically see a red haze of rage before her eyes. When they reached the top of the stairs, she didn't even bother to kick the door open. Needing an outlet for her emotions, and eager to attack an inanimate object, she held her hand out and sent a curl of fire at the door, blowing it to pieces. Behind her, she heard Kali's startled gasp, and felt Tamlen's eyes on her back, but she ignored both of them. They weren't the ones she was angry at, and in her current mood she risked snapping at them. Neither of them deserved that.

But luckily, she didn't have to worry about being harsh with those she cared about, since the target of her rage stood in the very center of the large room, inspecting a pile of bones and rubble calmly, as if he wasn't the cause of this whole mess.

Ashara stomped up to him, her long robe swirling around her feet as if to share in her agitation. Zathrian barely had time to look up and see her approach, before she began to fling insults at him. "_Ma bel'soren sorensha! Ma din'sulevin Shalas'vhen din'elvarel shemlen din el'llin! Dirth arla ar'en din'isa din maira ma vhen'alas!" _She hurled the words as if daggers, wishing she could stab in him in the heart.

In stark contrast to her sizzling anger, Zathrian retained his cool, calm demeanor. He studied Ashara with a smug look on his face, a look that made her itch to slap him. "I see by your childish insults that you have spoken with the spirit." His lips curled up into a mocking smile.

Ashara opened her mouth to curse him more, but before she could form the words Kali put a gentle hand on her arm, reminding her silently to stay calm. It took all of Ashara's training to swallow back the insults she wanted to hurl at this false Keeper, but she managed to hold her tongue. She knew Kali was right; as a mage, she couldn't afford to get lost in her anger. But, such a task was always hard for her.

Kali looked at Zathrian with intense dislike, mingled with curiosity. She lifted her chin and looked down her nose, in a fair mimicry of Ashara's own haughty expression. "What are you doing here, Zathrian? Did you come to stop us from telling your Clan what you did?"

Zathrian scowled at the little rogue. "I came because there was no way to tell what would happen once you reached the werewolf lair. If you had died in the attempt, I would still need Witherfang's heart to break the curse."

"Stop lying!" Ashara hissed. "You don't _need_ Witherfang's heart to end the curse; you could end it yourself if you wanted to! It's _your _fault that this curse it attacking our people; it's because of _you_ that our kin are dying!"

The false Keeper crossed his arms defiantly, his scowl deepening. "Why are you so angry? I should have thought that you, of all, would understand my reasons." The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I seem to remember of a little song on the wind; the tale of an entire _shemlen_ village, slaughtered for the death of one _Elvhenan_ girl." His words whispered around Ashara, giving flesh to the memories she wished she could forget. "You led your entire Clan into danger, careless of the consequences, which is all that I have done."

Ashara wanted to protest, to shout at him that it wasn't the same thing, but the words froze in her throat. What would be the point? Zathrian saw what he wanted to see. It was true, that when Tianna died Ashara had been so consumed by pain, wracked with guilt that she had brought her Clan, those she swore to protect, to the face of danger. But no matter how angry, hurt, and devastated she was, what she had done was still wrong.

That was when she felt it. The small flutter, the tiniest flicker of life as her child began to move. It was as if, even safe in the womb, she still protested Zathrian's words. Ashara put a hand to her stomach, feeling at once all of the anger drained away from her.

She lifted her head and looked at Zathrian, her face no longer colored with rage. "Yes, I put my Clan at risk, and did so without a second thought. But that doesn't mean that what I did was right, and it doesn't change the fact that this curse must be ended."

Tamlen's eyes narrowed; the swirling tattoo around his forehead twitched angrily. He shifted over to Ashara, opposite of Kali, and put a steadying hand under her elbow, though his eyes never wavered from Zathrian's face. "The only way both actions are comparable is that both were wrong. We killed innocents who didn't deserve it, _shem _or no. But we knew what we were doing; every member of our Clan _chose_ to come with us to avenge my sister. You have crippled your Clan without ever telling them what was happening. You are sending them to the Beyond with questions on their tongues and confusion in their minds.

Zathrian looked at the three elves watching him with mixtures of hatred, anger and disgust; his eyes flickered to Zevran, who glared at him with a dangerous look, to Oghren, who shifted his axe threateningly. Finally, he came back to study Ashara, and shrugged carelessly. "I am sorry that my Clan must suffer, but such unfortunate deaths cannot always be avoided. If their deaths can serve the greater purpose of showing the _shemlen_ that we of the _Elvhenan_ will no longer stand for the atrocities they commit against us, then they should be proud."

Ashara shook her head. She felt bolstered, relieved of the chain of her anger. Between the child in her womb, Tamlen's loving touch, and Kali's gentle pressure, she was able to breath calmly and keep herself under rigid control, as a First should. "So this is about bringing vengeance to all humans, rather than just avenging the murders of your children?" For the first time, she saw how obsessed he really was. The death of his children had driven him to such depths of pain that his mind no longer saw any difference between the humans who killed his children, and the humans who had done nothing wrong.

"You are Dalish!" Zathrian reached down and grabbed his staff, holding it so tightly that Ashara could see his knuckles turning white. "You know how we must live, how we must always watch our backs against the threat of _shemlen_! Those humans who attacked my children were mindless beasts, and they are the same now! It matters not if they are innocent of any wrongdoing; they are evil, twisted creatures who deserve this curse!"

Ashara drew herself up to her full height, assuming a commanding stance, fully in control of herself once more. "Enough. Your insane rambling is going to do nothing but give us all headaches, and we don't have time for this. The Lady of the Forest has asked that we bring you to her, where you are going to end this curse."

"Never!" Zathrian's face was splotched with red; he looked almost demented. "I will _never_ end this curse!"

Ashara looked down her nose at this false Keeper. "I didn't say I was giving you a choice." When Zathrian continued to sputter protests, she glanced at Zevran. "I think he needs convincing." She was secure that Zathrian would not attack them; at least, not yet. Not while he still claimed to need Witherfang's heart, and thought there was a chance he could convince Ashara and her friends to aid him.

The assassin grinned, and reached into his pack. "Of course." He pulled out a vial filled with a dangerous-looking green liquid, and confidently walked towards the false Keeper.

Zathrian frowned, and took a step back. "You would poison me?"

"Poison you?" Zevran stared at him as if shocked to his soul. "Of course not, my dear man. You would be of no use to us dead. Not until you have ended the curse, at least." He swished the green liquid around in the vial, his arrogant smile returning. "This is merely a concoction that will numb your body, rendering you unable to fight as we drag you down to the werewolf lair. All it requires is for me to break the vial near you, and soon you will be helpless."

Oghren sighed loudly. "If we have to carry this soddin' elf down the stairs, can I at least kick him once or twice?"

"Of course, Oghren," Ashara said.

Zathrian scowled, seemingly trying to take in the measure of their determination. Finally, as one forced into a corner with no way out, he held his hand up. "Stop, you do not need to attack me. I will go with you to the werewolf lair." He glared at Ashara. "But I will not help them. Instead, I will force the Lady to bring Witherfang out. When the werewolves attack you, you will be forced to defend yourselves, and then we will get the heart.'

Ashara shrugged, pretending that she didn't care. But inside, she worried that perhaps his words were true. Those werewolves were frightening creatures; what if they attacked, and she was forced to actually _help_ Zathrian? She toyed around with the idea of simply killing the false Keeper, if that happened. Could Keeper Marethari end the curse with Witherfang's heart, or was Zathrian the only one who knew how?

Well, there was nothing she could do about it now; she'd have to wait and see what happened. They walked back down the stairs towards the werewolf lair, with Zathrian in front. The false Keeper wasn't exactly having an easy time of it, since Tamlen and Zevran kept "accidentally" stepping on the back of his robes, causing him to stumble, and try to catch himself on his staff to keep from tumbling down the stairs.

Oghren was clearly pleased at not having to carry an unconscious elf; he grabbed the flask that stayed constantly at his side, and took a deep gulp before offering it to his companions. The dwarf wasn't usually one to share his ale; Ashara could tell by this that he was eager about the battle they would most likely have to face, whether it was against Zathrian, or the werewolves. He glanced up at Ashara. "You don't get any, Sparkles. Not with that nugget you're carrying."

Ashara couldn't help but chuckle at the nickname. Oghren never called anyone by their actual name, preferring instead to use nicknames that he thought suited them. The moment he saw Ashara hit Alistair with a lightning bolt for getting on her nerves, he started calling her "Sparkles". Nothing she said or did would change his mind, and eventually she just came to accept it. "I can't say I'm disappointed. Darkspawn blood smells better than that swill you carry around with you."

Oghren, never one to be daunted by insults, laughed. "You just don't have an appreciation for the good stuff." He waved the flask towards Kali. "What about you, Goldie? You want a sip?"

The little rogue giggled nervously. "No, I don't think so, and I don't think you should be drinking either. I'm not sure if it's a good idea for us to be drunk."

"Eh, you're no fun." The dwarf took another deep gulp. "Ah well, more for me."

When they finally reached the werewolf lair, Ashara heard a sharp intake of breath from all of the wolves standing around the large room. It seemed that no matter how much they may have hoped for it, they hadn't expected Zathrian to agree to come.

The false Keeper walked confidently up towards the Lady, seemingly unconcerned with the wolves glaring at him. "And so, here you are, spirit."

Swiftrunner growled low. "She is the Lady of the Forest; you will address her properly!"

Zathrian chuckled mockingly. "You've taken on a name, spirit? Now that is something I hadn't heard."

The Lady shook her head. "It was they who gave me my name, Zathrian, just as it was they who chose to follow me." She put a delicate hand on Swiftrunner's thick arm. "I showed them that there was another side to their bestial nature, and they have found peace in this sanctuary." She looked up at Zathrian, so earnest in her words. "Please, Zathrian, it is time for this curse to end. Can you not see that it has gone on long enough?"

The Keeper shook his head, clutching onto his staff tightly. "No! I will make them suffer, as my children suffered! I am only here to slay Witherfang, and heal my people."

Swiftrunner pulled away from the Lady and crouched low, exposing his row of sharp, dangerous teeth. Ashara had to swallow back an irrational desire to run from the room. "See?" the wolf demanded. "He will not help us! I say we kill him! Kill them all and end this curse ourselves!"

Zathrian turned to Ashara triumphantly. "Do you not see how savage they are? They turn on you just as quickly! We must kill them all now before they attack us!"

Ashara lifted her chin, keeping herself under control by rigid command. It was true; she couldn't say with a certainty that the werewolves weren't going to attack her and her friends, but she didn't trust Zathrian any more than she did them. All she could go on were her instincts, which told her to end this curse. "No."

Kali crossed her arms, scowling at Zathrian. "We're not going to help you."

Zathrian's face contorted into a blind rage. "Fine!" He lifted his staff to the air. "Then you will all die with them!"

Before Ashara had time to call out a warning to her companions, Zathrian slammed his staff into the ground. The ground began to shake, and the barren trees around the edge of the room suddenly sprang to life. Everything seemed to happen so fast after that. The wolves began howling, Kali and Tamlen were yelling something, and Oghren was laughing loudly as he swung his axe around.

"Don't kill Zathrian!" Ashara shouted. "He needs to end the curse!"

The trees were stomping towards the werewolves, swiping at them with large, thick branches. One of them narrowly missed Kali's head, but the clever little rogue was suddenly gone, disappearing into the thick shadows before it could reach her.

Ashara swept her arms up to the ceiling, sending bolts of energy through the air to force the Veil open, drawing a shield from the Beyond to protect her from harm, as the entity in the amulet taught her. Once the shimmering shield of energy protected her, she slowly backed away from the battle. She was unable to move fast due to her swollen stomach, but she was able to find a clear vantage point on a raised dais at the back of the room, where she would have plenty of room to cast her spells.

A large white wolf suddenly shot past her; Ashara barely had time to see it, and had no clue as to where it came from. Certainly it wasn't one of the werewolves, but she didn't have time to dwell on it, as it was clear that the battle was starting to take a toll on her companions. Zathrian had enclosed himself behind a barrier of magic; Oghren was trying to break past it, but wasn't having any luck. Ashara was about to try and help him, but a shrill scream caught her attention; her eyes were drawn to Kali, who had somehow gotten picked up by one of the moving trees. The little rogue tried desperately to hack and slash through its branches to free herself, but it wasn't working.

All around Ashara wolves were barking and yelping, but all she could focus on was the little spark of gold, caught amidst the thick brown branches. Zathrian was a powerful Keeper; Ashara wasn't strong enough to break his hold on the moving trees, so she did the only thing she could think of. She held out her hand and pulled on the stream of energy that constantly floated around the world. Sparks of power shot through her veins as she forced the energy out of the palm of her hand in the form of fire. The flame curled and sped towards the base of the tree, lighting on its trunks, with tendrils of flame reaching towards its branches.

The tree reared back, shaking Kali from its branches and dropping her to the ground. Before she hit the hard stone, Ashara pulled on the swirl of energy and forced a wave of healing green light toward the little rogue, catching her in a warm shimmer of safety.

The tree, still burning, fell to the ground with a harsh thud. Kali pushed herself off the ground, seemingly steady enough. "Kali, set the others on fire!" Ashara yelled. The little rogue jerked her head in assent and tore off one of the burning branches, before rushing towards the other trees.

This gave Ashara the opportunity to turn her attention back to Zathrian. Werewolf bodies littered the ground near his feet, and still that wall of magic surrounded him. Oghren was bleeding from a wound to his shoulder, while Zevran tried to creep behind the false Keeper, searching for some sort of way in. Ashara couldn't see where Tamlen was, but she saw his arrows shooting towards the barrier, trying to weaken it.

The room began to light up as Kali used the lit branch to set more of the trees on fire. Sweat beaded against Ashara's forehead; her hair was damp and stuck to the back of her neck, but still Zathrian kept tight hold of his magical barrier. She couldn't see a way to get past it, and while he was protected by it he was free to continue his attacks. It couldn't go on like this.

Then an idea hit her. The tight hold she had on her magical shield was taking its toll on her energy, but she saw a possible way to get past Zathrian's barrier. It would sap what was left of her energy, but if she could do it, it would break his concentration, forcing him to drop the barrier.

Ashara inhaled deeply, preparing herself for what she was about to do, and slammed her fist into the ground. At once, the rock and dirt parted easily, as slick as if she had dunked her hand in water, giving her a chance to use almost all of her remaining energy in one giant burst, shooting out under the ground towards Zathrian.

She could see the ground shifting as the energy dove through the earth. Ashara watched it carefully; if she didn't time her movements exactly right, it would fail. As soon as she saw the ripple of energy pass under the magical barrier, she swiftly pulled her arm back up, forcing the power to hit Zathrian from beneath his feet. The force knocked him to ground; he lost focus on his spells, and the barrier was dropped.

Immediately, Zevran tossed a vial of black liquid near the Keeper. It crashed by his feet, and though Ashara didn't know the name of the poison, she could smell it's rank odor, and put a hand to her nose. Zathrian tried to climb to his feet, but couldn't quite seem to keep his footing. He lost his staff in his mad scramble, and then Oghren was suddenly right behind him. With a sweep of the handle of his axe, he knocked the false Keeper back to the ground. Zevran hit him upside the head with the pommel of his dagger, knocking Zathrian out.

"Ashara! The fire!" Kali screamed.

Ashara turned her attention to the shout, to see that the flames were beginning to grow larger and more powerful, reaching towards the ceiling of the room. She held both hands up and slowly coaxed the fires down. It took a lot more energy to snuff a fire, rather than start one, but eventually the flames began to grow smaller and dimmer, until finally they were nothing more than embers, and Kali was able to stomp them out.

Ashara felt as though her whole body was weighed down with rocks; she hadn't used so much energy since their battle with that horrible broodmother, and it left her feeling drained and exhausted. She cut off her tie to the Beyond, breaking the shield around her and slowly sank to the ground, wanting to sit before she ended up toppling over.

Tamlen suddenly appeared by her side, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, his bow clutched tightly in his hand. "_Vulpasha_, are you alright?"

She nodded, gasping for breath. "I'm... fine. Just... I used... a lot... of energy..." Kali came running over; Ashara saw that though she was covered in minor cuts and bruises, she looked healthy enough. She held out her hand to the little rogue. "Give me a... lyrium potion, and I'll... heal you."

Kali fumbled around in her pack and brought out a blue bottle of potion. She handed it to Ashara. "You don't have to heal me, Asha. Save your energy. Besides, you've already helped me once; if it wasn't for your magic I would've been really hurt by that fall."

Ashara nodded, too weary to argue, and drained the bottle in one gulp. Lyrium potions always had a sweet, fresh taste to them, not unlike a cool drink of crisp water mingled with flower extract. As soon as Ashara drained the bottle, she felt some of her energy come back to her. With Tamlen's protective arms around her, she struggled to her feet and put a hand to her stomach. Once again, she felt the distinct little flutter inside, and knew that everything was okay. The child was fine.

Once she saw that Ashara was going to be all right, Kali fluttered over to Zevran and Oghren. The dwarf, apparently having learned a thing or two from the assassin, was picking through the pockets of Zathrian's robe, chuckling to himself as he pulled out this or that token, and put it in his pack.

Zevran pulled Kali into a tight embrace and whispered something in her ear, but Ashara couldn't hear the words. She _did_ see the little rogue's face flush a deep red, and smiled to herself. Finally, Zevran released Kali and looked at Ashara. "Zathrian will be out for some time; what would you like to do to him?"

Ashara rolled her shoulder, trying to stretch out her stiff muscles. It was amazing how much physical damage an exhausted spirit could do, and this shoulder was already sensitive, due to the wound she got by _Asha'belannar's _tail. "Bind him. Then we can wake him up and force him to end the curse."

The assassin chuckled. "Now, _this_ brings back some fond memories." Ashara could hear Kali's ripple of laughter as the two began to tie Zathrian's arms and legs with a length of rope that Zevran always carried.

Ashara cast her eyes around the large room, and saw that of all the werewolves that stood there only a short time ago, only about fifteen were left. The large white wolf stood in the middle with his head bowed, as if devastated at the loss. Then he raised his head, and a glowing white light began to surround him. It flashed, bright as the sun, and soon the Lady of the Forest stood in his place. Ashara shook her head; suddenly the presence of the white wolf made much more sense. She should have known that the Lady was really Witherfang. But, she excused herself from that overlook, knowing that she had been preoccupied with other thoughts.

The Lady looked around sadly at the dead wolves, and glided towards Ashara and Tamlen with sorrow etched in every movement. She inclined her head towards them. "Thank you mortals, for coming to our aid, and defending us in our time of need. You had no reason to trust us, but we are grateful for what you have done."

Kali and Zevran drug Zathrian's unconscious body towards the Lady. Ashara noticed that they weren't exactly careful with how they did it; the Keeper's head kept getting hit by this or that rock, or thumping hard against the ground. But by the looks on their faces, it seemed that they didn't mind the thought of Zathrian getting hit.

The Lady watched them sadly. "I am sorry that it came to this. Perhaps now Zathrian will listen to our pleas for mercy." Swiftrunner, sporting a nasty looking cut across his muzzle, came to stand beside the Lady and put a large paw on her shoulder. She looked up at him. "I pray that we can put an end to this wretched curse."

Ashara nodded, still holding onto Tamlen. Between losing so much energy, and the movements of the child, she felt as though she needed to be near him. "I hope you're right. But if he won't listen, we are now in a position to force him."

Kali helped Zevran prop the Keeper up against a wall, and looked up at the Lady. "Well, one way or another, the curse will be ended, won't it?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Ma bel'soren sorensha! - You stupid, stupid man!<br>Ma din'sulevin Shalas'vhen din'elvarel shemlen din el'llin! - You false Keeper, no better than the humans who killed our kin!  
>Dirth arla ar'en din'isa din maira ma vhen'alas - Tell me why we shouldn't kill you where you stand!<br>Asha'belannar - Woman of Many Years; the name given to Flemeth_

_I took some liberties with Zathrian's dialogue, b/c I've always got the impression that he went from wanting to avenge his children, to becoming so locked in his hatred that he wanted to kill all of the humans. I couldn't remember if he actually says that or not in the game, so I went with it anyway :]_

_The fight was a lot different from what I've written previously (normally I avoid fighting scenes like the plague), but I've gotten some wonderful advice from Wyl (who is a master at fight scenes), and I wanted to try it out. I hope it made sense to everyone.  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, or requesting alerts. I'm so grateful to all of you! :D_


	31. Cold in Life's Throes

_Many many thanks, hugs, and cookies to Kira Tamarion for her awesome advice, speedy beta work, and encouragement :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Cold in Life's Throes<strong>

"So, it is done. The curse is lifted and Zathrian is dead." Lanaya, the new Keeper of the Ainuae Clan, glanced at Keeper Marethari before lowering her head sadly. "We could feel his spirit leave, and knew that his life had been ended."

Ashara couldn't help but feel somewhat bad for Lanaya. Though she certainly had no love for Zathrian, especially after what he had done to cause the curse that hurt the _Elvhenan_, she couldn't help but admit that it had to be hard for the poor girl, to suddenly be thrust into the position of Keeper. Silently, she nodded.

Lanaya raised her head and studied Ashara's face intently. "How... did it happen? Was it from injuries sustained in battle?"

Ashara wanted to tell her the truth; the words were on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell Lanaya how Zathrian had willingly brought about the werewolf curse, how he wanted the _shems _to suffer for what had happened to his children. And how, even after so many years, he had been willing to sacrifice any number of his people to keep the curse going.

But before the words were formed, she hesitated. _What good will it do? Zathrian is dead; the curse is ended. Trampling his memory will only further harm his Clan._ "He... gave up his life to end the curse."

Lanaya nodded solemnly. "I am not surprised; he was a good Keeper." Ashara bit back an angry retort, conscious of Marethari's eyes on her; Lanaya glanced around at her Clan, seemingly oblivious to Ashara's internal struggle. "It will be difficult to take his place; Zathrian was our Keeper for so long. But I will do my best." She raised her head and met Ashara's eyes. "Allow me to say it formally. As Keeper of the Ainuae Clan, I hereby swear that the _Elvhenan _will uphold their promise to the Grey Wardens. We will aid you in battle against the Blight."

Marethari smiled warmly at Ashara. "You have done much for your people, _da'len_, much more than we could have expected, and we are grateful to you. I shall send out the call to other Dalish Clans, so that all may come to your aid. Know that when you face the Archdemon, it will be with our arrows at your call."

Ashara inclined her head to the two women, grateful that the task was done. She could hear laughter coming from her companions' tents, and was eager for the chance to join them. When they had returned to the camp she had sent Tamlen, Kali, Zevran, and Oghren to go clean up and relax, since only one person needed to tell the two Keepers what had happened in the forest. But she couldn't wait for the chance to relax with them.

"We are sending our armies to the human castle called Redcliffe, near Lake Calenhad," Ashara said. She thought of how the Dalish would react to that infuriating woman, Isolde, and hesitated. "But I assume that the Dalish won't want to say inside a building of stone; in that case, they are welcome to set up their camp in the surrounding area. We need someone to scout, and tell us where the darkspawn are heading."

Lanaya nodded. "I think that would be for the best. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to ensure that our hunters are healing properly. Once they are completely healthy, we will begin our march to Lake Calenhad." With a slight bow to Marethari, she walked off towards the sick men.

When she was gone, Marethari silently studied Ashara with something of a thoughtful look on her wise face. The young woman shifted nervously under her gaze. "What?"

The Keeper smiled. "You did not tell us of Zathrian's full part of the curse, did you?" When Ashara wouldn't meet her eyes, Marethari's smile widened. "It was good of you not to disgrace his memory."

Ashara shrugged, turning aside the compliment. "You already knew that he had done something to cause it, didn't you?"

"I suspected that he knew more than he was telling, but I knew nothing for certain."

"Well, your suspicions were right. He started the curse after humans killed his children, and had become so twisted in his anger that he didn't care how many of the _Elvhenan_ died for his revenge." Ashara could hear the anger in her voice. "We had to fight him when he refused to end the curse, and it was only after we beat him, and bound his hands and legs with ropes that he finally relented and accepted the truth."

Marethari nodded sadly. "Even the wisest of us are at times blinded by our own ignorance. We all make mistakes, and think that what we do is right."

"Say what you like, Keeper, but I doubt that you would have caused the deaths of your hunters."

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

Ashara scoffed. "You almost sound like you're sorry for him!"

She meant it as a joke, but the Keeper smiled at Ashara as though she were still an impatient _da'len_. "I was never in the position that Zathrian was, and cannot imagine the pain he must have felt. Who am I to judge what he did?"

Ashara was irritated, and didn't bother to hide it. "You make it sound like any of us could have done what he did." She raised her chin defiantly. "But I would never have sacrificed my own people, no matter how angry I was."

Marethari's smile widened. "It is easy to say that, _da'len_, when your loved ones are whole and healthy."

Ashara shrugged and let the matter go. She knew it was almost impossible to win an argument with Marethari, and would be stupid to try. Instead, she reached into the pocket of her robe, and pulled out the empty vial that had once contained the entity of an _Elvhen _mage.

She handed it to the Keeper, who inspected the symbols etched around the rim. "Where did you find this, _da'len_?"

"It was in a storage room, in the ruins where the werewolves were hiding. There was an entity in it, a sort of spirit that was trapped inside. When I touched the vial, we could hear what the spirit was feeling." Ashara hesitated, unsure of how to explain the sensation. "It... showed us images of the past. There was some sort of terrible battle, and this mage was terrified. We saw him trap himself, but it couldn't remember when the battle was. It desperately wanted to be rid of its cage, and agreed to show me some of the magic of our ancestors, in exchange for its freedom."

Marethari frowned thoughtfully. She held the vial up to the sun, as if trying to see remnants of the spirit. "There is nothing there now; it is a vial like any other. I cannot feel any sort of lingering shadow, nothing to indicate that a spirit was once trapped within." She peered at the strange symbols. "I know not what these symbols are, but they must be powerful, to hold a spirit within. What sort of magic did it teach you?"

"It taught me how to pull a shield from the Beyond, to keep myself from harm. The shield is powerful; most attacks seemed to just get absorbed into the Veil, but it consumes my energy at a rapid pace."

The Keeper nodded. "Our history tells us that our ancestors were skilled at protecting themselves and others. It would make sense that they would have had a way to create such a powerful shield."

Ashara leaned forward eagerly. "Would you like me to teach you?"

Marethari shook her head. "You have much to do, _da'len_, and with the Blight coming now is not the time for us to explore ruins, or for you to train others." She saw Ashara's disappointed look and added, "Much as I would wish it otherwise. I assume that you and your companions will be leaving soon?"

The young woman nodded, reluctantly. Much as she hated to admit it, Marethari was right. They still had a lot to do; the Blight was a threat that needed to end. "Yes, we must go to Denerim and find a way to wake Eamon. Then we can let him confront Loghain, and turn our attention to the Archdemon." She sighed, not wanting to leave her Clan again. But she had no choice. "Once my companions are rested, I suppose we'll have to leave."

The Keeper nodded, as if she understood what Ashara was thinking. She smiled, and put her hands on the young woman's shoulders. "It is not forever, _da'len_. I will go with our Clan to meet your army; you will not fight this alone." Ashara's face lightened at the words, and Marethari gestured towards the cluster of _aravels_. "But before you go, I ask that you not forget your promise. Merrill has been eager to see you."

"Oh, right." With all that had happened, Ashara had almost forgotten that she was supposed to go speak with Merrill. "Alright, I'll go talk to her." She bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. "You still won't tell me what she's doing that has you so worried?"

Marethari shook her head. "She should be the one to tell you that."

The young woman nodded, knowing that she would get nothing more from the Keeper. "Fine, I'll go speak with her."

"_Ma serannas, da'len_."

Ashara bowed to Marethari, as a sign of respect to the Keeper, and walked slowly to the group of _aravels._ If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that she wasn't thrilled at the thought of trying to tell Merrill that whatever she was doing needed to stop. The two of them weren't exactly friends anymore; she didn't think that Merrill would listen to anything that she had to say.

Ashara sighed heavily. It hadn't always been like that. When they were younger, they had spent most of their days together, and were really good friends. Merrill had a gift of remembering their history and lore, and often helped Ashara commit the past and ancient language to her memory, and in return Ashara had helped the younger girl to practice her magic. They had formed a sort of bond with each other; both were mages, who stood apart from the Clan because of their skills. Both were to eventually become Keepers, born into a position of leadership. No one else could understand.

But while Ashara's outgoing personality and enthusiastic energy caused her to get along with most of the Clan, Merrill's quiet and shy demeanor kept her apart from the rest of them. The other children of the Clan often made fun of the poor girl, because they didn't understand why she wouldn't join in their games, or why she preferred to sit quietly with her books. Ashara used to get frustrated with Merrill, and would tell her to stand up and defend herself, but she never did, and Ashara took it upon herself to defend her.

But then Marethari chose Ashara as her First, and the two girls drifted apart. Merrill was terrified at the thought of leaving the Clan, to become First to a Clan of strangers. Ashara grimaced. If she was _really_ honest with herself, she'd admit that she certainly hadn't helped the situation. Even though she had felt bad for Merrill, it hadn't stopped her from subtly preening, or arrogantly showing off her magic whenever she got the chance. Of course, that only served to make Merrill feel worse.

"Ashara!"

The young woman stopped, eager for a chance to dismiss her thoughts, and to delay the inevitable talk with Merrill. She turned towards the voice and saw Kira rushing towards her. "Yes?"

The Orlesian Warden skipped up to Ashara, beaming widely. "Kali and Tamlen said that all of the werewolves are gone from the forest. Is it true?"

"Yes, Zathrian ended the curse."

Kira clapped her hands together excitedly. "Wonderful! Master Varathorn agreed to give me one of his beautiful longswords if I found ironbark for him in the forest. But I did not wish to go unless the werewolves were gone; I did not wish to risk any of our companions."

Ashara couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "You're lucky. Master Varathorn rarely trades his work with humans."

"I can not blame him; his work is truly magnificent!" She was practically skipping from one foot to the other. "He agreed to wait until the forest was cleared of werewolves, so now that it is safe I am going to go find ironbark for him."

"Make sure to take Alistair, or someone else with you. The werewolves may be gone, but the forest can still be a dangerous place."

The Orlesian Warden nodded. "Very well. I shall take Alistair and Aric with me, if you do not mind. Do you have an idea of where we should look?"

Ashara frowned thoughtfully. It was generally the Master's apprentice who sought ironbark in the forest; she herself had only gathered some once. "You want to find a tree that has fallen down near a body of water. Ironbark generally grows around that area. There's a small stream to the east, if I remember correctly. I'd look there first."

Kira beamed happily. "Wonderful! We should be back soon." She fluttered off, and Ashara reluctantly turned her mind back to the task of speaking with Merrill.

She was able to immediately figure out which of the many _aravels_ belonged to Merrill. Most of the Clan decorated theirs with bits of flowers, bows and arrows, anything bright or pretty that might set them apart and stand out amongst the others. But Merrill never did; she could never be bothered to waste her time trying to stand out, and as a result, hers was the most plain out of all the _aravels_.

As Ashara approached the _aravel_, she saw the petite mage sitting outside, with her nose buried in some huge book. She took a moment to study her; Merrill looked exactly the same as she remembered. She was a tiny little thing, with short black hair pulled away from her face, and dark skin the rich color of the earth. As always, Merrill was so absorbed in her book that she was completely oblivious to anything around her.

Ashara inhaled deeply, to steady her nerves, and slowly approached the _aravel._ "_Aneth ara_, Merrill."

Merrill jerked her head up from the book and stared at Ashara for a moment with wide eyes. Then she jumped up, tried to catch the book as it fell, missed, and winced as it hit the ground, before smiling nervously. "Oh! Ashara! I... I'm so glad you came to see me! I mean, I heard that you were in the camp, but the Keeper said you were busy, so I, I didn't know if you'd have time to come talk to me."

Ashara relaxed her stiff posture, and a bright smile crossed her face. This was the Merrill she remembered; stammering, shy, but excited and sweet. It was almost as if time hadn't changed a thing, and the two girls had never distanced themselves from one another. Ashara found herself talking as if nothing had ever changed. "Calm down, _lethallan_. You know I would always find time to see you."

Merrill laughed nervously. "Why don't you sit down? I think I still have some of that tea you gave me." Ashara bit back a laugh as the little mage climbed into her _aravel_ and started digging around. "Oh Creators, I know I had those herbs somewhere, but I can't remember where I put them." Ashara could hear things being tossed around. "Ah! Here they are!" She climbed out, holding a small packet of herbs.

As she set to work putting a small pot of water over a little pile of wooden sticks, Ashara leaned back against the _aravel_ and put a hand over her stomach, wondering where to begin. She didn't want to just dive into talking about whatever Marethari was worried about, better to ease in slowly. "So Merrill, you're First of the Clan now! Are you glad?" She took care to keep her voice light.

Merrill winced as she set the sticks on fire, so that it would heat the water. She sat back on her heels and glanced at Ashara nervously. "Are you angry?"

Ashara's eyes widened. "No, not at all. We're both in a position to help the _Elvhenan_, aren't we? I can help our people by ending the Blight, and you can help them by being the next Keeper, protecting them and keeping them safe."

Merrill bit her bottom lip, with a worried expression on her face. "I thought you would... I mean, you wanted to be First so badly, I just thought..."

"You thought I would believe that you stole the position from me?" Ashara asked gently. Merrill nodded, and Ashara sighed. "I was angry at first. Not at you, but at Duncan. I thought that he had stolen Tamlen and me from our Clan, and I didn't want to be around a bunch of _shemlen_. But now I..." She broke off, and shrugged. "Now I am glad to be a Grey Warden."

Merrill watched her with wide eyes. "Really? What are the _shemlen_ like? Are they really as evil as _Hahren _Paivel says they are?"

Ashara shook her head thoughtfully. "No, not all of them are evil." She realized that she was speaking nothing but the truth. "There are a lot of them who treat the _Elvhen_ as slaves; they don't seem to see us as anything other than lower beings. But a lot of them are very nice. The humans who came with me, for instance, they treat Tamlen and me like any other Grey Warden."

Merrill smiled sweetly. "I'm... glad that you're happy, Ashara. I was worried..." She trailed off, and then perked up and changed the subject. "I heard the Keeper say that you were pregnant, and I'm so excited for you! Is Tamlen happy? How far along are you?"

Ashara grinned. "Tamlen's thrilled, of course, and I'm right about six months." She rubbed her stomach. "Keeper Marethari says that it's a little girl."

Merrill nodded, and the two settled into an uncomfortable silence, neither of them knowing what to say to the other. Finally, Ashara took a deep breath. "So, you never answered my first question. Are you happy as First of the Clan?"

She noticed that the little mage lowered her head slightly. "Um, I suppose it's not that much different than when you were First."

Ashara frowned; she could see that Merrill wasn't being honest, but didn't want to call her out on it. In the end, she decided to just press forward. "But the Clan is happy about it, aren't they? I mean, you're going to be their next Keeper."

Merrill glanced around nervously, and then came back to look at Ashara. It seemed as though she was going back and forth between desperation to tell someone her problems, and the fear that she should keep silent. Finally, the words came out in a rush of energy. "The Clan is angry with me; they think I'm going to cause problems for the _Elvhenan_."

Ashara was taken back. She knew that the Clan was a bit harsh towards Merrill, but how could anyone assume that the little mage would cause problems? Merrill shied away from fights; she didn't like to confront anyone, and always kept to herself. "Why would they be angry?"

Merrill wouldn't look at her. "After you and Tamlen were taken away, before the clan decided to move north, I... I went back to the ruins. You know, the one that made you and Tamlen sick?" Ashara frowned; the ruins had been tainted by the darkspawn. But she held her tongue while Merrill continued. "There wasn't much there to recover, and most of the writing was too faded to read or copy, but I brought back a piece of the _eluvian_."

Ashara wasn't sure she had heard right. "You... brought back a piece of it?"

Merrill smiled. "I did. Would you like to see it?"

She stood up, but Ashara shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't want to see it." Merrill's smile faltered; Ashara stared up at her as if she couldn't believe what she had heard. "Merrill, what were you thinking?"

"What do you mean?" She plopped back down on the ground. "I thought _you_ would understand, Ashara. That mirror is a piece of our history!" She couldn't contain her excitement. "The Keeper said that mirrors like that were used by our ancestors in Arlathan; they used them for travel. Imagine how wonderful it would be if I could make it work again!"

Ashara couldn't keep the worry off her face; maybe Merrill didn't fully understand how dangerous the mirror was. "Merrill, that mirror is tainted by the darkspawn. You can't cleanse it with just magic, and if you keep it in the camp you stand the risk of infecting everyone here."

Merrill frowned. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"I didn't say you were..."

"I don't keep it in my _aravel_. I have it hidden in the Brecilian Forest, in a spot where no one will find it. When the Clan moves, I take it with me and hide it in another spot. I'm not going to do anything to risk the Clan."

Ashara shook her head. "You don't understand. The darkspawn taint is a slow death, Merrill, and there's no way to cure it. Just by touching the mirror you risk yourself! That's why Duncan took Tamlen and me away; we would have died if we didn't become Grey Wardens!"

Merrill crossed her arms defiantly. She was no longer nervous and shy; she looked angry and determined. "I'm going to cleanse the mirror, Ashara; it won't be harmful to anyone anymore!"

"You _can't_ cleanse it!"

"You might be a Grey Warden now, but you don't know everything!" Merrill jumped to her feet, and Ashara slowly followed. "I'm trying to reclaim part of our lost history, something to help restore us to who we once were! Doesn't that mean _anything_ to you anymore?"

Ashara scowled. "Of course it does! But what you're doing is stupid and dangerous! Is finding our history worth dying for, abandoning our Clan to survive without a Keeper?"

Merrill stomped her foot angrily. "Our history is worth _everything_, Ashara, and I thought you knew that! But you're too busy with your _shemlen_ masters to care anymore!"

Ashara stared at Merrill as if she had never truly seen her before. She had known Merrill her whole life, and in that time had never even heard her raise her voice to anyone. "What's happened to you? Why are you acting like this?"

"I'm not a _da'len_ anymore, and I don't like all of you telling me what to do!"

"Even Keeper Marethari wants you to stop this! Doesn't _that_ tell you how dangerous it is?"

Merrill's face darkened. "Oh, so is _that_ why you came to talk to me? The Keeper had to convince you to?"

"No Merrill, it wasn't like that. She's just worried..."

"I know _exactly_ how it was! You wouldn't bother to waste your time with me unless the Keeper made you!" Her eyes narrowed angrily. "Well I don't need you, Ashara. Go run off with your new _shemlen_ friends, and leave our Clan alone!" She twisted on her heel and stomped off towards the forest, leaving Ashara standing alone by the boiling water, wondering what just happened.

oOo

Night had fallen on the camp like a thick curtain, surrounding them all in shadows and darkness. It was as if the sun had suddenly been extinguished; the trees were swallowed by shadows, and even the sky was completely black. The only light to be had was from a large fire in the center of the camp, where everyone, except Kali and Zevran, was gathered.

It was their last night with the Dalish; tomorrow morning they would leave to start their journey to Denerim. _Hahren_ Paivel, one of the Clan's storytellers, had asked Leliana if she would tell them one of the human stories, and the bard had eagerly agreed; she stood with her back to the fire, regaling everyone with the story of a beautiful young princess who fell in love with a soldier.

But Kali and Zevran had drawn away from everyone else, wanting to talk and laugh freely without disturbing those who were listening to the story. Even Drake was enamored by Leliana's voice; Kali could see his little nub tail wagging fiercely as he settled next to a bunch of Dalish children. The Clans were fascinated by the mabari, calling him a proud warrior, and Drake was in love with all of the attention.

Kali took a sip of the delicious fruit juice that the Dalish made, and grinned at Zevran. "You know what I just realized? Once we find a way to cure Arl Eamon, we'll almost be done with our mission."

The assassin chuckled. "You're right, my little Warden. All that will be left is to deal with the Hero of River Dane, and then that pesky Archdemon. Should be easy enough, no?"

Kali giggled. "I suppose not, then. But it's still a nice thought. After all this running around, it's kind of nice to think that we're almost done." She set her drink down and pulled her legs up, resting her chin on her knees, as another thought struck her. "Do you think... we're going to survive it?" She tried to keep her voice casual, as if the thought of dying didn't bother her too much.

One of the things she liked about Zevran was that he was always honest. He never coated the truth with false hopes, and he never denied anything bad. He looked at her thoughtfully. "There are always casualties in war, _mi querida_. We cannot guarantee the future."

She nodded solemnly. "I guess you're right. Ashara, for one, is afraid that she's going to die." She straightened up and lowered her voice. "She told me that if something happens to her, she wants me to help Tamlen raise her child, so that her baby always knows who her mother was."

"It is a possibility that we may all die, my little Warden. It is good to plan ahead, in case such a thing should happen." Zevran shifted towards her, and put a finger under her chin. "But it also means that we must be grateful for the time that we have, not waste a second of it."

Kali closed her eyes as he pulled her face closer, and brushed her lips with his own. He wrapped his arms around her and folded her against his chest as she opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss. By now, she had gotten used to the shiver that ran down her spine each time he held and kissed her, and she had grown to enjoy the delicious feel of it. After talking with Ashara about her confusing mix of emotions, she had decided to take the Dalish woman's advice, and just accept the way she felt about Zevran; she didn't want to spoil her time with him by worrying about whether or not her feelings were real, true love, or just a crush.

He pulled away slightly, and buried his face against her neck, kissing and teasing the sensitive skin as his hands twisted around the curls of her hair. Kali didn't know if it was possible to melt in someone's arms, but every time he held her, she felt like her whole body turned to mush. Before Zevran, she had never had a man touch her in such a way. Even Jandar, when he tried to kiss her, awkwardly held her face. Her whole life had been stiff and formal; men and women rarely touched in public. Kali had never even seen her mother and father do anything other than peck each other on the nose or cheek.

But Zevran was different. He was passionate; she could feel all sorts of emotions from him every time he kissed her, and tried to give her own feelings back to him, so that he would know how she felt. The way he kissed and touched her made her feel like she had nothing to be nervous or ashamed of.

She realized that her hands were wound in his hair, twisting the dark golden strands around her fingers like bright rings, and that he was slowly easing her onto her back. His lips were pressed against hers hungrily, and his hand was massaging her chest in a way that made her whole body tingle.

She lay on the ground, underneath him while he kissed the hollow of her neck, and found herself wondering if this was it. Were they going to... go all the way? Right here, beside the camp, trusting only the shadows to hide them from everyone else? Part of her was thrilled at the thought of it, but another part was terrified. She had no real knowledge of what to do. She didn't know what to expect, or how to move, or prepare for it.

Zevran lifted himself up and looked down at her; his eyes seemed to hold a question that she didn't know how to respond to. But then, as she watched the smile widen on his handsome face, she was confronted by such an irrational fear that it made her whole body freeze. A memory, one that she had barely even thought of since it happened, floated unbidden through her mind.

_The guard inched closer to Kali, sneering disgustedly at her. She stepped away from him slowly, desperately trying to find a way out, until she felt her back come in contact with the cold wall. Terror rose in her stomach; she knew where the man was going to take her, and what Vaughan was going to do to her._

_She tried to focus, to find a way out, but couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from the man leering at her. She could hear Shianni screaming and crying in the distance, while the other women sobbed. _

_It was as if time slowed down, as the guard reached out to her; she flinched as his metallic hand brushed against her face. He was enjoying her terror. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she did nothing to halt them. She found herself begging him to leave her alone, pleading pitifully without any thought to pride or dignity. Her heart beat wildly in her chest; she could almost hear the blood rushing in her ears._

_The man laughed and put his hands on either side of her head, trapping her against the wall. There was no escape. "Oh, I think Lord Vaughan's going to have a lot of fun with you." She could feel his moist breath on her cheek._

Before Kali knew what she was doing, she shoved Zevran away from her roughly and sat up, staring at him as if she didn't know who he was. The assassin jumped back on his heels, looking confused at her sudden reaction. "What...?"

Kali leapt to her feet, her heart hammering against her chest. She was scared, confused and ashamed, and could feel cold sweat on her neck and chest. "I...I'm sorry..." Before he could say anything, she spun around and ran towards the fire, leaving Zevran starting after her in confusion.

oOo

"She just stormed off?"

Ashara bit her thumbnail thoughtfully and nodded. "Yes. She told me that she didn't need me, and then just turned away and stomped off towards the forest."

Tamlen scowled, and leaned back on his hands. He stared at the fire, where Leliana was telling a love story to the enraptured Dalish, but it was obvious that he wasn't really seeing anything. "I can't believe that she brought a piece of the mirror back. Didn't you tell her that it was tainted by the darkspawn?"

Ashara glanced around to make sure that none of the _Elvhenan_ were trying to listen. "Yes, but she seems to think that she can cleanse it. I asked Marethari what she thought about the situation, and she said that for Merrill to cleanse such a deeply tainted item, she'd have to contact a demon from the Beyond. Only a powerful demon would have the strength to cleanse it."

Tamlen exhaled deeply and shook his head. "This can't be good, _vulpasha_. She's putting the entire Clan at risk."

"I told the Keeper everything I know about the darkspawn taint. I told her what to look for, how long it can take to affect someone, and how there isn't any cure for it. She won't let Merrill do anything stupid."

"Yes, but what happens when Merrill takes her place as Keeper? If she's doing something like this now, when she's only a First, what happens when there's no one to tell her that she needs to stop?"

Ashara frowned, thinking rapidly. "Marethari doesn't think that Merrill will actually enter the Beyond and contact a demon; we all know how dangerous that can be, and Merrill isn't stupid." She had talked with the Keeper after her disastrous conversation with the little mage, and had told her everything that was said. Marethari had hoped that Ashara could talk some sense into her First, but didn't seem to be truly worried.

"Well, I suppose if the Keeper isn't worried about it, then we shouldn't be either. Keeper Marethari knows the dangers of what could happen." Tamlen's shoulders relaxed, and his face broke out into a bright smile. "Besides, we have something to be thankful for, don't we?" He pulled Ashara into his arms and kissed her lips. "Our child moved."

She smiled and returned his kiss, before twisting around so that her back was reclining against his chest. "The Keeper says that it is a girl."

Tamlen buried his face in her hair, and rubbed her stomach. "A girl, _vulpasha_. A strong little daughter of our blood."

Ashara relaxed in his arms, all thoughts of Merrill banished from her mind. She closed her eyes as Tamlen's strong arms wound around her torso, holding her in place. She could hear Leliana singing sweetly about the power of true love, and how it would overcome all obstacles, and lost herself in the beautiful words. The Dalish had been hesitant at first to listen to a human story, but Leliana had enough sense not to tell a story that might offend the _Elvhenan_. Instead, she told romance tales that spoke to any race, and the Dalish were impressed by the sweetness of her voice, and the power of her words.

Ashara wanted to hold this night in her memory forever. In the morning they would have to set out for Denerim, but for tonight she could forget about the Blight, the Archdemon, and simply sit with her kin.

"A... Asha?" Ashara heard the thin voice and instantly sat up. She and Tamlen looked towards where Kali was standing nervously, twisting her hands together and shifting from foot to foot. "Um, can I talk to you?"

"What's wrong, Kali?"

The little rogue's bright green eyes flicked towards Tamlen nervously; he seemed to take the hint. "Uh, right, I'll go, see where Zevran is." He pressed a quick kiss to Ashara's head, before letting her go and walking off towards their tents.

Ashara saw Kali bite her bottom lip and lower her head, almost as if she was ashamed of something. It looked like she was holding herself together by a tiny thread. Ashara slowly got to her feet and put an arm around the little rogue; something was wrong. "Come on; let's get away from the fire." She guided Kali towards the edge of the camp, away from everyone else, before turning to face her with concern. "Are you alright? You look like you're about to cry."

Kali's only response was to sink to her knees and bury her face in her hands. Ashara carefully knelt down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. "_Lethallan_, talk to me."

"I... I made a big mistake." Her pales hands muffled her words.

Ashara was confused and worried. She hadn't seen Kali break down like this since that first night at Ostagar, after Duncan took her away from her home. "What happened?"

Kali picked up her head. In the darkness, Ashara couldn't see her face, but she could hear that her voice was thick with tears. "I... Zevran kissed me... and I... I pushed him away... I remembered..." She trailed off. Ashara didn't say anything; she didn't want to push Kali. Better to let her talk on her own time. "Lord Vaughan's estate... when the, the guard tried... he tried to take me to..."

Ashara tensed. She remembered that day as if it had just happened. It was the first time she met Kali, when a wedding was supposed to take place, and a group of _shemlen_ men kidnapped the women in front of everyone. No one knew what to do, and Ashara had been to preoccupied by her own anger to really care about what happened to a bunch of flat-ears. They all knew what those _shemlen_ men were going to do with the women, and though Ashara had been angry that such an act was permitted, she had allowed Duncan to forbid her from acting. She stood by with the rest of the flat-ears, as guilty as they were, and never bothered to take action herself.

To this day, she and Kali had never spoken of what took place inside the castle. All Ashara knew was that Kali had killed the _shemlen_ lord that stole them, and fought her way through the castle, saving the other women in the process. But the little rogue never brought up what had happened while she was trapped, and Ashara didn't want to pry.

Bu she couldn't understand what happened this time, to bring up such memories. "I don't understand, Kali. You've kissed Zevran before, haven't you?"

Kali rubbed the back of her hand across her face. "He was... I was lying on the ground and he... he was on top of me..." Ashara inhaled sharply, but held her tongue. "I didn't mind it at f... first, but then... I just... I remembered when the guard had me pushed up against the wall. He was... laughing at me, and t...touching me, and I knew he was going to drag me to Vaughan..."

Ashara pulled Kali into her arms tightly, and felt her shoulder grow wet as the little rogue started to cry. "I don't understand it!" Kali suddenly burst out. "I haven't thought about... about the guard... not since I became a Grey Warden! He didn't even... do anything to me! I kicked him before he... got a chance..." She choked on a sob. "So why... why now?"

Poor Kali was shaking and crying; Ashara wanted to do something to help calm her down. She dipped into the pool of energy that constantly floated around the world, and laced power through her voice, using the energy to try to soothe Kali's troubled soul. "It was a traumatic event, _lethallan_. It doesn't matter that the _shem_ didn't do anything to you. Your fear was real."

The words seemed to help a bit; Kali stopped shaking, and her voice was a bit steadier. "I pushed Zevran away from me... and now... he probably thinks..."

Ashara hushed her, and rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair and letting her cry. She had used her magic to help calm Kali down a bit, but nothing would stop her crying completely; nothing would halt the pain, or the memories that still seemed to haunt her. The only thing Ashara could do was ensure that Kali didn't go through it alone. All she could do was hold her close, offering comfort by her presence, until slowly, her tears were silenced, and she quietly clung to Ashara, as if she was her only friend.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>da'len - childchildren  
>Ma serannas - thank you<br>Aneth ara - informal greeting  
>hahren - elder; sign of respect<br>lethallan - kinsman or friend; used for female_

_Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, or requesting alerts! I can't tell you how happy it makes me!  
><em>


	32. What's Clear and Pure is Not so Sure

_I am completely indebted to Kira Tamarion, for her amazing beta work and endless encouragement. Thanks to her, this chapter is no longer a horrendous mess :D_

* * *

><p><strong>What's Clear and Pure is Not so Sure<strong>

_Thick, white mist surrounded Ashara like an airy cloak, obscuring everything from view. She tried to brush it aside, or at least push past it, but it seemed that each time she managed to take a hesitant step forward, the mist pressed even closer. Fear settled in the pit of her stomach; she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, reminding herself that this was nothing more than a dream. There was no reason to panic._

_Cruel laughter floated lazily through the air. The sound wrapped around Ashara, causing her to warily look around; she recognized that laugh. "Well, it seems you learn quickly. I'll say that for you, at least." _

_The mist suddenly disappeared, swept away in an instant. Ashara found herself standing face to face with a beautiful young woman with long, thick black hair that covered her torso like a cloak. Ashara looked in the woman's dark yellow eyes and scowled. "Visiting me _again, Asha'belannar_? Don't you have anything better to do?" _

_The woman beamed, as if she found Ashara's words extremely funny. "Is that any way to speak to your elder, girl? I see you have learned a thing or two from Morrigan."_

_Ashara crossed her arms, her scowl deepening. She had been having a rough few days, and really didn't feel like being taunted. "What do you want this time? Are you planning to give me another cryptic warning that I'm expected to understand?" _

Asha'belannar_ waved a long hand dismissively. "What I want is of no concern to you yet, girl. For now, I am content to merely sit and watch you fumble." _

_Ashara was growing tired of these games, tired of these confusing dreams. " Oh, well that's _so _reassuring. Why don't you go harass your daughter instead of me?" She was secure in the knowledge that _Asha'belannar _couldn't harm her in the Beyond. Ashara was a skilled mage; she knew how to protect her body and mind while she slept. _Asha'belannar_ may taunt and harass her, but she couldn't harm her. That security gave Ashara the confidence to be angry. _

"_You do not know?" The witch tapped a long finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps you are not as aware as I thought. No matter; you will see soon enough."_

"_I can't wait." Ashara's voice was cold and haughty, dripping with sarcasm. She knew _Asha'belannar_ wouldn't tell her anything; there was no point in this conversation. "Get out of my dream, witch."_

_But that only caused _Asha'belannar_ to laugh. "I will leave, for now. But know that I will be back. After all, you have something that I ultimately want." Her smile widened, and Ashara felt a small prickle of fear. It was a threatening smile, the smile of a hunter who relished the chase. "Go back to the light and pretend you are safe. But don't think that old Flemeth doesn't know what they are planning. They think they are so clever, with their opaque words and subtle hints. But I am always three steps ahead in this dance."_

_Then she was gone, as quickly as she had appeared. Dozens of elven children burst out from the shadows, swarming around and Ashara, giggling while they tried to hug her. "_Mamae! Mamae!_" they chanted over and over. "_Ma'sahlin inar'en!_" _

_Ashara looked around in confusion at all the children, who watched her with expectant faces. "I'm not your mother." _

_But the _da'len_ only laughed and pressed closer together, beaming as they wrapped their little arms around her thickening waist. "_Mamae inar'en!_" In the end, she had no choice but to give in and let them hug her._

oOo

Ashara reluctantly opened her eyes, frowning as she saw the blackness around her. _Damn; it's still night. _She groaned; so much for finally getting a full night's sleep. There was a dull pressure against her ribcage that was starting to ache; she rolled over on her side, trying to relieve some of it, but of course that didn't seem to help at all.

With a dramatic sigh, she shoved the thick blanket off of her; it was way too hot for a blanket. But then, Ashara was almost always feeling hot these days. It was starting to get warm as the season slowly inched towards summer, and it seemed that no matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get cool and comfortable.

Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness; Ashara stared up at the roof of her tent glumly. The group had been on the road for a few days now, traveling from the Dalish camp to Denerim in search of the Brother that horrid woman had mentioned. But they were making slow progress. Even though Ashara had started to ride on the cart–walking long distances was beginning to grow hard for her now that her child was growing–they were still forced to make stops frequently so that she could relax from the hard ride, and she wasn't happy about it.

For the first time in her life, Ashara felt useless. Worse, she felt like a burden. Even knowing that she was keeping her body safe for the little daughter growing in her womb didn't really make her feel better.

But she seemed to be the only one angry at having to travel at such a slow pace; none of her companions seemed to mind. On the contrary, everyone was very kind and helpful. Tamlen and Kali were always by her side, ready to carry her things or help her climb down from the cart. Wynne was always ready with a wave of healing magic, so that Ashara didn't have to spend her energy. No one allowed her to take watches any longer; Aric and Oghren even made sure to stay by the cart during the day, to protect Ashara should they be attacked.

But their eagerness to help only made her feel worse, even though she knew that they were only trying to help. Ashara was used to being the leader, the one who chose when and where to go. She was used to always having something to do, and didn't like being forced to sit and watch while others did her work for her.

Ashara sighed, and pulled herself up into a sitting position. Maybe it was just her hormones that were making her feel sorry for herself. Besides, it wasn't like she really had a choice. She'd just have to suck it up and deal with it for another few months. She couldn't do anything to risk her child.

She stroked her stomach, her face softening as she looked at her swollen belly. She was right around six months; only three more months to go, and then her daughter would be welcomed into the world. Part of her was frightened at the thought of giving birth. After all, who knew where she would be when it happened? There was a Blight; she could hardly just stop their journey to wait out the rest of her pregnancy.

When a Dalish woman reached the final month of her pregnancy, the Clan made sure to stay one place. Women surrounded the young mother, always ready to assist in case the child should come early. Then, after the woman had given birth, the Dalish stayed in their camp for another two weeks while the mother recovered. But Ashara wouldn't have that luxury. For all she knew, her child might decide to come in the middle of nowhere.

Ashara bit her nail, frowning thoughtfully. Then what? After she gave birth, she could hardly drag her daughter around Ferelden, or even bring her during the fight with the Archdemon. _Perhaps I can ask Marethari to watch her. She said she was journeying with the _Elvhenan_ to meet us at Redcliffe; perhaps she will watch my daughter for me, and keep her safe._

With a shrug, Ashara tried to push the worry away. She would deal with this as she had dealt with everything else that had happened since she became a Grey Warden; by holding her head up high and doing what she could to better the situation. Besides, if Aric and Kira were right–that the Archdemon generally didn't show itself until at least a year or two after the darkspawn began appearing–then she had plenty of time to figure out what to do.

She touched the intricate tattoo around her neck, the swirling cluster of vines and leaves that symbolized her love for Sylaise, Goddess of the Forest. So far, the Creators had not yet led her astray. She would have to place her trust in them, and find security in the knowledge that they would provide for her.

She felt the now familiar little flutter in her stomach as her child turned over and smiled, despite her worries. "You agree, do you, little one?"

Ashara sat with her hand over her stomach for a moment, reveling in the little snatches of movement from her child, before crawling out of the tent. She doubted that she would be getting any more sleep, and since it was Tamlen and Zevran's turn for the watch, she could at least sit with them and talk for a while.

As soon as she excited the tent, Tamlen twisted around to look at her, as if each of his senses was always alert to her movements. "What's wrong, _vulpasha_? Do you need something?"

She walked over to the fire, and couldn't help but smile at the concern on his face. "I can't sleep. I was going to get my box of herbs from Bodahn's cart."

"Oh, I can get that for you." She should have guessed that he'd respond that way; Tamlen seemed to have developed a belief that the baby made her unable to carry anything for herself. But she smiled at his enthusiasm. It really was very sweet.

He rushed off to the cart, and Ashara slowly sat herself down by the fire. _Creators, if I feel like this at six months, how am I going to feel later on? _She tried not to think about it.

Instead, she found herself focusing on Zevran. He sat with his legs crossed, and a scowl on his dark face as he glared at the fire. His eyes didn't stray from the flames as Ashara settled herself down; in fact, he didn't give any sort of sign that he even knew she was there.

Ashara studied him thoughtfully, and watched as a muscle in his cheek twitched. He had been like this for a few days now, ever since that night at the Dalish camp, when Kali had nervously pushed him away and ran off. Since then, both of them had been sulky and withdrawn, though neither of them seemed inclined to talk about it.

Ashara had taken it upon herself to explain a little bit about the situation to Zevran. She didn't give him any specific details–it wasn't her place to tell him such things–but she _did_ tell him that what happened wasn't his fault. It was the first time that she and the assassin had really talked, and as she could have guessed, Zevran had assumed all of the blame for the situation. He felt that he had pushed Kali too much, that she ran away from him because she believed that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Well of course Ashara couldn't let him continue to think that. After all, what man could handle the thought that the woman he cared for believed he was capable of forcing her? So she had pulled him away from the prying eyes of their companions, who all wanted to know what had happened between him and Kali, and told him a little about the situation. She explained that Kali had reacted in such a way because of an event that had happened when the _shemlen_ lord kidnapped her and the other _Elvhen_ women.

Zevran had immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, and it was only after Ashara had firmly stated that Kali had never been taken against her will, that he finally calmed down.

But now Ashara knew that he had no idea what to say to the little rogue. She knew he felt that his presence would only make Kali feel worse, or bring up more of those memories. So he avoided her whenever possible, but it was clear to Ashara that he was unhappy about it. It seemed only Tamlen could bring the assassin out of his bad mood, and he managed it by doing nothing. He would talk to Zevran about random things, or go off hunting with him to get him away from the curious glances of their companions. Being around Tamlen seemed steady the assassin.

But Ashara would keep trying; perhaps it was a bad trait of hers, but she couldn't seem to sit by and let her two friends walk away from happiness. "Zevran." She waited, until he reluctantly tore his gaze away from the fire to look at her. "She just needs time."

The assassin sighed deeply, as if coming to the end of a hard piece of work, and leaned back on his hands. "Perhaps it is better this way."

"What do you mean?" He shrugged silently, and Ashara frowned. "You think this is better than what you had?" She glanced back towards the tent where Kali slept. The little rogue never bothered to close the flap, and Ashara could see her clearly. Her thin arms were wrapped around her giant mabari, as if she needed to hold onto him for strength. Her breathing was coming in deep, even strokes; Ashara had been forced to give her a tincture that induced sleep.

Zevran's eyes traveled in the same direction, but he quickly looked away. "I am an assassin, Ashara. Such feelings for another person can never lead anywhere."

Ashara scowled. "If you still believe that, then you're an idiot." He glared at her; she could see his eyes glinting dangerously, but refused to take back her words. "You're not with the Crows anymore, and it's about time you realized it."

"You think I don't know this?"

"Apparently not, if you're still wallowing in your whole 'caring is a weakness' mentality." She clicked her tongue impatiently. "Really, Zevran, I thought by now you would have realized that the Crows' way of handling life is wrong." He glanced away from her, but Ashara wasn't about to let the matter go. She knew from experience that sometimes one needed a friend to give a hard push in the right direction. "Can you honestly say that you were happy with the Crows?"

" 'Happy'?" He let out a laugh that held no humor; she could see him slipping back into his habit of turning everything into a joke, to keep from dealing with his thoughts. "Happiness is not something one should expect, my lovely Warden. Your concern for Kali is quite touching, but you must understand the situation. She and I have had a fun time, but it has led nowhere. If my presence is uncomfortable for her, then I shall stay away, and no harm is done."

He said the words so nonchalantly, but Ashara wasn't fooled; she lifted her chin and looked down her nose, spearing him with an arrogant look. "Haven't I told you before that lying to a Keeper almost never works?" Zevran looked as though he wanted to say something, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Look, I'll let it go for now. Just let me say one more thing." She leaned forward and looked at him intently. "If you try to convince yourself that you really don't care, you're going to ruin one of the best things you've ever had."

Tamlen came back with her box of herbs and set it down in front of her. He sat down, took one look at their faces, and was instantly on alert. "What's wrong?" He looked between the two of them.

Zevran managed a wide smile. "Nothing at all, my friend. Our charming Keeper here was merely giving me the pearls of her wisdom."

Ashara chuckled as she opened the box. "Well, at least you don't snap at me and tell me to mind my own business." She dug through the various levels of the box, searching for her pile of herbs at the bottom. Finally, she found the bundle of lavender and pulled out a fresh sprig. "Thank you for getting this, _emma'lath_."

Tamlen smiled down at her, and planted a quick kiss on her shoulder. "Well that box weighs a ton; you shouldn't be carrying it. How many herbs do you have in there, anyway?"

"Oh, it's not _just_ herbs." She closed the lid and fastened the buckles that held the box shut. "I also have my vials of oil, my mortar and pestle, trinkets that I need for various rituals, and all sorts of things." She held the lavender to her nose and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Due to her pregnancy, she couldn't ingest certain herbs, but she could still inhale scents; hopefully the lavender would help to soothe her aching muscles.

The three of them sat in a companionable silence for a time, each lost in their own thoughts, when they heard a rustle in the bushes towards the edge of camp. Immediately Tamlen and Zevran were on their feet, their weapons drawn. Ashara followed at a much slower pace, but held her hand out over the ground, preparing to call on the earth for protection, should she need it. The two men came to stand in front of her, blocking her from view, to give her time to protect herself if they were under attack.

The bushes continued to rustle and shake, and then Morrigan calmly stepped out. She took one look at the three of them, tense and ready for battle, and laughed. "There is no need to be so alarmed. 'Tis only I."

Ashara relaxed and rolled her shoulder. Ever since that battle with _Asha'belannar_, it always seemed to be stiff. "Morrigan? I thought you were sleeping. What were you doing?"

"I merely desired some peace for a time, and flew off in the forest." She pointed towards Oghren's tent. "That dwarf snores loudly enough to wake the Archdemon."

Tamlen scowled at the woman, and set his quiver and bow down. "Next time, let us know when you decide to just take off; we could have killed you." He seemed to think about this for a moment, and then shrugged. "Though I suppose that wouldn't be such a bad thing." He still hadn't forgiven her for the battle with _Asha'belannar_.

Morrigan scoffed, but seemed to decide against rising to his bait. Instead, she simply looked at Ashara. "I am glad you are awake; I must speak with you."

The swirling tattoo on Tamlen's forehead twitched angrily. "She needs her rest, Morrigan."

Ashara studied the witch curiously; Morrigan never asked to speak with her to discuss trivialities. It must be something important. She glanced up at Tamlen. "I'll be fine, _emma'lath_."

Tamlen's frown deepened, but then he shrugged and let it go. Even though he didn't like he witch, he knew she must have something important to talk about. "Just, don't let yourself get too tired." He shot Morrigan a glare. "And if she asks you to fight another battle for her, we're not doing it."

Ashara chuckled and gave Tamlen a quick kiss before following Morrigan over to her side of the camp. The witch never liked setting up her tent near everyone else; she preferred to have a small spot designated only to her. The two women sat down, and Morrigan set to work building up a small fire to give them some light.

"I saw you speaking with the old woman after we left the Dalish camp," the witch remarked smugly. "Did I not warn you that she would be dangerous?"

Ashara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No, but I am curious as to what you intend to do about it."

"Nothing; I intend to do nothing." Morrigan gave Ashara a scornful look, but she pretended not to see it.

Only a few days ago, after they left the Dalish camp, Wynne had come up to Ashara with a nervous look on her face, and asked to speak with her. In a tumble of words, she told the Dalish woman that a Spirit of Faith inhabited her–Ashara noticed that she intentionally avoided the word "possessed"–and that it was slowly draining away her life.

At first, Ashara had been rather angry. After all, Wynne had constantly harassed _her_ for being an apostate, even going so far as to insinuate that the Circle Tower would have given Ashara a better education than Marethari had. She constantly turned her nose up at Dalish magic, believing it to be suspect since it was not Chantry approved, and often hinted that Morrigan was not to be trusted. Ashara had wanted to laugh at her, to call her a fool and a hypocrite.

But something about Wynne's face had made Ashara hesitate. The Circle mage had looked as though she was well aware of the hypocrisy of her situation, and Ashara couldn't bring herself to taunt her. After all, Wynne had helped her after that horrible fight with _Asha'belannar_, and had gone out of her way to help ease Ashara's mind about her pregnancy. For all the good things that Wynne had done, she didn't deserve Ashara's sharp words.

After asking all manner of questions about the spirit, in the end, Ashara decided that it didn't matter. Wynne had not done anything that could be considered threatening, and she didn't seem to be an abomination. Whatever this spirit truly was, it didn't appear to be a danger. Ashara decided to keep an eye on her, just to make sure that this spirit _stayed_ harmless, but she told Wynne that there was no need for anyone outside of their group to know.

Morrigan sat back on her heels, looking incredulous. "You intend to let the matter go? Did you not say I could kill her, should she become a danger?"

Ashara shrugged. "I did; but she's not a danger. She can be annoying as Fen'Harel, but she's not a threat to us." She saw the witch's frown deepen, and added sweetly, "Besides, Morrigan, surely you have better things to do than worry about some old woman?"

Morrigan laughed reluctantly. "I do, and 'tis why I asked you to speak with me." She crossed her long legs in front of her and leaned forward. "Tell me, have you have any dreams of Flemeth recently?"

Ashara looked at her in surprise, wondering where the witch was going. "I have; just this night, actually. She told me that I have something that she wants." She frowned, trying to remember what had been said. "And I think she said something about how she knows what they are planning, but that she won't let them win. But I don't know who she means."

"Do you know what it is that she wants?"

"No. I was hoping you could tell me that."

Morrigan's frown deepened. She reached over to grab her pack, and pulled out a weathered black book; _Asha'belannar's _true grimoire. Ashara watched her curiously. "Have you discovered what your mother is planning?"

The witch ran a hand over the book, as gentle as a mother caressing her child's face. Then she looked up. "Tell me, Ashara, what do you know of blood magic?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

" 'Tis important, I think."

Ashara couldn't figure out what blood magic had to do with anything, unless _Asha'belannar_ was a blood mage. But Morrigan had said that she was far more than a simple abomination. "I know what the _Elvhen_ history tells us about blood magic."

Morrigan looked very interested. "I have found that the _Elvhen_ history is often far closer to the truth than what the Chantry teaches. Will you tell me what you know?"

Ashara placed a hand over her stomach, bringing to memory all that Marethari had taught her. "We're told that blood magic was originally created in Arlathan." She stared at the fire, as if the dancing flames would reveal her ancestors. "It was nothing like blood magic today. The _Elvhen _didn't use it to control others, or read minds like mages do now. Instead, they harnessed the power of blood to fuel their spells, their studies, and all manners of things. A mage who specialized in the area could even use blood to heal. They could stop the blood of a wound, and use it to renew and heal the area."

She shifted her weight to ease the pressure against her ribs. "Do you remember Redcliffe, when we used blood to enter the Beyond?" The witch nodded. "That's one of the spells left over from Arlathan. The _Elvhen_ didn't need to kill or torture to use blood magic; a mage would use a small vial of their own blood to do what they needed." She could hear the note of pride slip into her voice. After all, her ancestors were powerful beings.

"How is it that the Magisters of the Tevinter Imperium learned such magic?" Morrigan asked thoughtfully. "They used blood magic against the elves, did they not?"

Ashara frowned. "We don't know how they learned it. I was told that the elves of Arlathan kept such magic closely guarded; they didn't believe that humans had the knowledge or power to work such magic." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "But maybe that's not true, and the _Elvhen_ welcomed the humans in. Or perhaps one of our own betrayed them. We don't know how the Magisters learned blood magic but when they did, they used it for far different purposes. They learned how to boil a man's blood, and how to force his mind to work against him."

Ashara shrugged. "You must know the rest. They used the magic they had learned to attack Arlathan, and they won. Simple as that. Then Andraste fought against the Imperium, and the Chantry forbade the use of blood magic. It became such a rare talent that only demons remembered it, and could teach it."

Morrigan stared down at the book in her hands, but it was clear that she wasn't seeing anything. "You do not believe that one needs a demon to learn such magic?"

"Not at all." Ashara studied her closely. "Blood magic, _true_ blood magic as it was taught in Arlathan, is magic like any other. It can be taught like any other magic, by a mage who is well versed in the subject. The only reason the Chantry assumes that demons are needed is because most mages seek them out in order to learn it, rather than finding another mage that can help them. But demons only want power; they don't care about the mage they're helping, so they teach the corrupted form of blood magic." She hesitated. "But, what does any of this have to do with _Asha'belannar_?"

Morrigan flipped through the pages of her mother's grimoire. "I have read and reread this book in my attempt to discover what Flemeth is trying to do. I cannot be certain, but I believe that she is attempting to delve into such ancient magic as the blood magic taught in Arlathan. But for what purpose, I cannot guess."

"Then you don't know what it is that she wants?"

The witch sighed. "I can only see perhaps two steps ahead, not the whole path." She shifted slightly. "You... have done much for me already, but there may come a time where I ask for your help again."

Ashara watched her curiously. "I can't agree to fight _Asha'belannar_ again, if that's what you want."

"No, that is not what I will ask. Flemeth is gone, for the time being. She is building up her strength; she may harass you in the Fade, but she will do nothing to attack any of us for now. What I am speaking of is something different." Morrigan raised her head, and gave Ashara something of a smile. If she were dealing with anyone else, Ashara would have thought that the look was tender, almost sisterly. "But I wish for you to deliver your child safely, before we speak of such things."

Ashara ran a hand over her stomach. "Why do you say that?"

Morrigan's eyes grew soft. "You must save your strength for your daughter. Once she is safely delivered, then you will be free to turn your mind to other things."

"You will help me, won't you?" Ashara leaned forward, her previous worries about birth swimming through her mind. "When the time comes, you will help me through it?"

The witch hesitated. "You... would trust me that much?"

Ashara bit her lip to hide a smile. "Creators only know why, but I do. If you and Kali are there with me when the time comes, I will feel safe."

"Then I will be there."

oOo

It was only later, as Ashara was gathering up her things to prepare for a day of traveling, when she realized that Morrigan had spoken as if she already knew the sex of the child. But Ashara had told no one but Tamlen and Kali, and neither of them would have told the witch. So how did she know? Was it nothing but a lucky guess, or did she know something that she wasn't saying?

oOo

Kali crossed her legs and tried to clutch on to the edge of her seat, to keep herself balanced, but it didn't seem to be working very well. She was still jostled around with every step that the horses took. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep herself steady; one more rough bump, and she was afraid that she'd topple right off of the cart.

Ashara looked over at her and smiled slightly. "Just relax, _lethallan_. By tensing your body, you're only making it worse."

Kali nodded and tried to do what Ashara said, but it was really difficult. She just wasn't used to riding on a cart, and wasn't sure that she cared for the experience. But, she kept that thought to herself. If she said it out loud, Ashara might make her get up and walk with the others, and for all her suffering, Kali didn't want to do that.

_Someone_ had to sit with Ashara during the day. She couldn't just be left alone on the cart while the others talked and laughed amongst themselves during their trip to Denerim. Tamlen didn't want Ashara walking such long distances during these final months of her pregnancy, and though Ashara had agreed to sit at the front of the cart, Kali could tell that she didn't like it.

Trying to distract herself from the bumpy ride, she looked around to see where everyone else was. Wynne and Leliana were in front of the horses, guiding them forward with sweet and gentle words, while Bodahn and his son Sandal stayed inside the cart with their goods. Kali could hear Kira chattering to Alistair behind the cart, exclaiming over some new sword that she had gotten, while Sten walked silently beside them with Drake, and Oghren and Aric laughed about some sort of raunchy joke that Kali didn't get. She could see Morrigan flying ahead of them in her raven form, keeping watch for potential attackers, and at the front of the group Tamlen was talking to–

No, she didn't want to think about him.

Kali sat back in her seat, clenching onto the edge as tight as she could to keep from falling off. There _was_ one good thing about spending her days riding with Ashara; she didn't have to see or talk to Zevran. _Of course_, she thought glumly, _I guess it doesn't matter where I am, since he's done everything he can to avoid me._

She closed her eyes miserably, and tried not to think about that night when she had pushed him away from her. The way his lips had turned down, or the way his eyes had looked so confused. It had to have been one of the stupidest things she had ever done, and now she was positive that Zevran was angry with her. But she couldn't blame him. After all, he had been nothing but caring and kind to her, and she repaid him by shoving him away from her.

The worst part, from Kali's point of view, was that Zevran didn't know _why_ she had done it. He must have seen it as some sort of rejection, and didn't know that it was only her stupid, stupid fear that caused her to act like that. She hung her head sadly. _This is worse than when I found out Jandar was going to marry another woman._ That thought made her hesitate, but she realized it was the truth. This feeling of despair, the ache in her chest was far worse than when she discovered that she couldn't be with Jandar. Maybe Ashara was right; these feelings she had for Zevran really _were_ more than just a crush.

_Well it's too late now_, she thought miserably. Even if she somehow worked up the courage to talk to Zevran, and explain what really happened, even if he forgave her for what she did, it would only happen again. That memory had come unbidden to her mind; it was almost as if she had relived that moment, when the guard had her cornered against the wall. So what would stop it from happening again?

Kali shook her head and tried to focus on something else; anything else, to keep herself from thinking about what had happened. She found herself looking at Ashara, who was staring up at the sky with a slight frown on her face, almost as if she would wish away the sun.

She took a moment to study the Dalish woman. Kali didn't know much about pregnant women–after all, she had never really known one–but she had heard that women who were with child were supposed to look healthy and radiant. Under the warm sunlight, she could see that Ashara looked almost... drained.

She was still a beautiful woman, no one would deny that, but Kali had known her for a long time now, and could see that something was off about her. Ashara had almost perfectly white skin, but she had always had a flushed hue to her cheeks, whereas now Kali could see that there was no pink tinge to her face. It almost looked as if someone had covered Ashara's skin with white powder; the effect made her look almost ghostly.

Her violet eyes, which were normally bright and vibrant, looked almost completely black, and there were dark purple smudges under them, as if Ashara hadn't slept in weeks. Kali felt a prickle of concern for her; was the baby making her sick?

Ashara finally lowered her head, and noticed Kali staring at her. "Is something wrong, _lethallan_?"

Kali squirmed in her seat. "Um, no... not really, but..." She lifted her chin; surely there was no harm in voicing her concerns, right? "I was just thinking that you look... really tired. Are you feeling alright?"

The Dalish woman shrugged. "I'm fine."

Kali almost let the matter go, but then she stopped herself. After all, Ashara would never just give up if she were worried about _her_, so why shouldn't she press forward, isn't that what friends do? "You don't look fine, Asha. You really do look exhausted, and I'm worried about you."

"It's probably just the pregnancy."

"But I thought that women with children were supposed to look really healthy?"

Ashara seemed to think about Kali's words; she placed a long hand over her stomach. "Perhaps it's because my child will indeed be a mage?"

Kali grit her teeth as the cart went over a particularly rough bump. "What do you mean? I thought that all children were the same in the womb."

"Marethari and Wynne both told me that mage children drain more out of a mother, as they're building up their energy, and that my chances of birthing a mage are far higher than a non-mage. The Keeper said that it gets worse as the child grows." She let out a sigh, as if accepting what she couldn't change. "So, if my child _is_ a mage, I can only assume that I'm going to feel worse." She chuckled harshly and lowered her voice to a mumble. "Just one more thing I seem to have no control over."

Kali leaned forward; she almost didn't hear Ashara's comment. " 'One more thing'? What do you mean by that?"

The Dalish woman frowned thoughtfully up at the sky. "Something is being hidden from me, and I can't seem to figure out what it is. If I could just find out what it is that _Asha'belannar_ wants..." She trailed off, and sighed heavily. "The only thing I can think of is that it has something to do with what Sylaise warned me about. It's the only thing that explains why they both appeared in my dreams, but what it means... I have no clue."

Kali clutched tighter to her seat as they went up a small hill. "Have you had another dream about Sylaise?"

"No, I haven't." Ashara glanced at Kali out of the corner of her eye, and looked away quickly. Kali could see the Dalish woman thinking rapidly; it was the same look she got when she tried to determine the best way to handle a hard task. "You know, sometimes this all feels like it's too much."

"What do you mean?"

Ashara sat back in her seat. "The Blight, Loghain setting a bounty on our heads, _Asha'belannar_ taunting me, Sylaise sending me cryptic warnings, even my pregnancy. Sometimes it starts to feel like it's too much to deal with all at once."

Kali frowned; she never liked it when Ashara started talking like this. She was used to seeing the strong side of Ashara, the part of her that never let anything stop her from accomplishing her goals. This sad, reflective side of her made Kali fully see the enormity of the situation that they were dealing with.

She wanted to say something to help ease Ashara's worry, but before the words were formed Ashara raised her chin and glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "You know, if I didn't have Tamlen with me, I think I would have gone crazy. But he's always by my side, enduring the same thing that I endure."

She smiled tenderly, and Kali bit her bottom lip. She wasn't sure what to think about this change in topic. How did they get from talking about stress, to talking about Tamlen?

Ashara pulled her eyes away from the sky and looked Kali straight in the face; there was a strange sort of seriousness in her eyes. "Kali, loving and being loved can bring out strengths that we didn't know we had. When we have someone to lean against, we're reminded that we're not alone."

While Kali was still trying to think of something to say, Ashara reached over and squeezed her hand. "We all have painful memories, _lethallan_. We all have burdens to carry, and things in our past that we wish we could forget. But you have to remember that they're only shadows; whispers that have only as much power as we give them. You don't have to endure it alone." She peered at Kali intently. "It won't be easy, but take care that these shades don't destroy your chance for a future."

Kali found herself glancing towards the front of their group, where Zevran and Tamlen were walking. She swallowed nervously, and watched as Zevran turned his head to glance back at her. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and in that moment Kali felt as though a thousand words passed between them. But then he looked away, and she wasn't sure of what she had seen.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Mamae - mother<br>Ma'sahlin inar'en! - You're here with us!  
>Mamae inar'en! - Mother is with us!<br>Asha'belannar - Woman of Many Years; Flemeth  
>da'len - childchildren  
>emma'lath - my love<br>lethallan - friend/kinsman; used for female_

_**A/N** - Kira pointed this out to me, so I wanted to clear this up in case anyone was confused. If it seems that Ashara is having a really rough time with her pregnancy (the baby being so big at six months, being so exhausted and drained), that's because I intentionally wrote it that way. There is a reason for it, but it won't be made completely clear until long after the child is born._

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, reading or requesting alerts!_


	33. Sing for the Moment

_Lots of thanks and hugs to Kira Tamarion for her wonderful beta work and her endless encouragement._

* * *

><p><strong>Sing for the Moment<strong>

Kali felt as though her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. Blood was rushing in her ears, her skin felt like it was on fire; it was all she could do to keep herself walking calmly. She wanted to kick up her heels like a little girl playing tag, to run laughingly through the streets as if she wasn't a Grey Warden.

It had been nearly eight months since she last set foot in the city of Denerim. Eight months since she had last seen her father, or Shianni or Soris. Eight months since she heard Shianni's sarcastic words, or Soris' easy laughter. She couldn't keep the bright smile from her face; soon, she'd get to see them again!

She knew they'd be so impressed with her! Their little Kali, now one of the famed Grey Wardens, with friends among the Dalish, humans, and even dwarves! Oh, she couldn't wait to tell Shianni about the Dalish camp, or the beautiful underground city of Orzammar! She stifled the urge to giggle, imagining her cousin's shocked face when Kali told her about all their adventures.

But she'd have to wait just a little bit longer, while her companions finished discussing where they should go from here. The sentry had allowed them into Denerim easily enough; to hide from Loghain, they had all decided to assume the identities of traveling merchants, but now that they were actually in the city, they needed to figure out what to do next.

Kali shifted uncomfortably in her tunic and pulled the belt tighter around her waist. After traveling for so long in Mama's armor, it was an unwelcome change to wear common clothing. But Ashara had pointed out that they could hardly walk into Denerim in their usual attire. Loghain's men were searching for Grey Wardens, but no one would look twice at a group of commoners with nothing of notice.

She finally managed to secure the belt, and felt a strange emptiness along her waist as she felt the vacant space where her daggers should have been. Elves weren't allowed to carry weapons, so Kali, Ashara, Tamlen, and Zevran had all been forced to lay their daggers and bows aside. Ashara and Tamlen kept muttering about stupid _shems_ who feared the _Elvhen_, but in the end they had no choice but to agree, and hide their weapons in Bodahn's cart. Kali wasn't fooled though; she knew Tamlen and Zevran had knives hidden on them somewhere. They wouldn't allow themselves to be easy targets.

"I believe the Gnawed Noble Tavern has a good stable for our horses, provided we are willing to pay," Leliana said, looking at Ashara and Tamlen. "Once they are settled, I am hoping to find Gavan there; that is where he usually stays, when he is in Denerim. I must see if he can help me track down Marjolaine. We need to know who ordered her to hire Jowan."

"And Riordan," Kira reminded them. "Aric and I are eager to see him again. After Gavan brought us to Orzammar to meet you, he agreed to bring Riordan here to Denerim."

Ashara nodded, taking in their words. "We also need to find Brother Genitivi, and see if he can help us find the Urn of Sacred Ashes." She thought for a moment. "But for now, Leliana, why don't you go purchase rooms for us, while Sten takes Bodahn and Sandal to get the horses settled in?" She glanced over at Kali, who was hopping from one foot to the other, and smiled. "I think Kali is eager to see her family before we do anything else. I can go with her."

At the mention of her name, Kali finally came out of her dreamy thoughts about her family and back down to reality. "Oh, um, I think someone else should go with us. The Alienage isn't always a safe place for strangers." She lowered her eyes apologetically. "But, it can be even worse for humans. Everyone there knows me, so I don't think that anyone would start a fight, but I've been gone a long time, so I don't know for sure."

Kira nodded, completely unfazed at the thought that the elves might not want her or any human in their home. "We understand, Kali," she said gently, before looking at Ashara. "Perhaps Tamlen and Zevran can accompany you two? With the four of you together, we can rest assured that you should be able to handle any situation, whether it be elves or Loghain's men."

Ashara murmured assent, but Kali didn't hear her words. She was already staring at the opposite end of the market, where she knew the gate that led to the Alienage was. She wasn't sure if she wanted Zevran to go with them–after all, they still weren't really talking to each other–but then she decided that it didn't matter. Seeing Father, Shianni, and Soris was far more important than her nervousness around the assassin.

The group separated, and the moment Kali saw that she was free to go to the Alienage, she grabbed Ashara's arm and practically dragged her through the market, while Tamlen and Zevran followed silently behind them. The Dalish woman wrinkled her nose, looking around at all the humans pushed together. "I had forgotten how many _shemlen_ there were. Is it always like this?"

Kali nodded, never taking her eyes off the far end of the marketplace. "Always. Denerim is the biggest city in Ferelden. It's where the King and Queen live, so there are always nobles here. Since the nobles are here, merchants and craftsmen set up their shops, hoping to sell to them."

"Yes, but this is ridiculous! Being here five minutes is enough to give me a headache; I can't imagine how it would be to deal with this many people _every day_!"

Kali giggled, unable to keep the smile from her face. The sun was beating down strongly from a clear, blue sky, warming her from her head to toes. It was a beautiful day, almost as if even nature itself was joyous about her homecoming. For the first time since the Dalish camp, Kali was able to forget about her stupid mistake with Zevran. All she could think about was her family, and how happy she'd be to see them.

But as they approached the gate, it was as if the whole world had suddenly been turned upside down. The gate to the Alienage was closed. A lone guard stood beside it, keeping watch. Her heart plummeted; the gates were _never_ closed during daylight hours. Elves were supposed to be inside the Alienage at night, but they were never blocked in during the day!

She let go of Ashara's arm and walked swiftly up to the guard. "Why are the gates closed? We need to get to the Alienage!"

The guard scowled at her, angry at her impertinence. "The gates were closed at the command of the Arl of Denerim. That's all you need to know, knife-ear."

Kali suddenly felt cold, as if she had been dunked into an icy lake. The Arl of Denerim ordered the Alienage blocked? What did that mean? He was Lord Vaughan's father; was it because of what she did? Were the guards trying to find her? "Please, my family is in there! What happened?"

The guard fingered the hilt of his sword threateningly, clearly indicating that they should leave now, or face the consequences. But Kali refused to move. She needed to know what happened! She opened her mouth to protest, though she had no real idea of what to say to convince him to talk to her, when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Ashara incline her head, as if to tell her to calm down.

The Dalish woman took a step towards the guard and tossed him a dazzling smile. Even though she was six and a half months pregnant, even though she looked pale and drained, she was still a beautiful woman. "We are new to Denerim, and my friend here wished only to see how her family is doing." She looked up at the guard through lowered eyelashes; Kali could have sworn that her dark violet eyes shifted color. "Surely, you can at least tell us what happened?"

The guard was staring at Ashara as if he had never seen such a beautiful woman. His hand dropped from his sword, and a sort of dreamy look swept over his face. Behind her, Kali heard Tamlen snort in amusement. "The elves were rioting," the guard said blankly. "They killed the Arl's son. When Arl Urien died at Ostagar, Teyrn Loghain named Rendon Howe as the new Arl of Denerim. The first thing he did was close down the Alienage until the riots are put down."

Ashara never even shifted; she kept her head perfectly straight while she forced the man to look at her. "So the Alienage has been closed for months? How long could it possibly take to put down a few riots?"

"No; Arl Howe only closed it down about a month ago."

Ashara lifted her chin. "That's all I need." The guard shook his head as if coming out a daze, but before he could say anything, or realize what happened, Ashara was already leading Kali away from the gate, with Tamlen and Zevran behind them.

Kali dug her heels into the ground. "Why are you pulling me away? I need to find out what happened!"

"Hush, _lethallan._ There's nothing we can do right now."

"But my family is in there! What if the guards are hurting them, trying to find me?"

"I know, but you must stay calm." She guided Kali over to a row of merchants calling out to customers. When they saw the group of elves approach, they started shouting that they didn't need filthy elves blocking the way for paying customers, but Ashara ignored them and let Kali go. "That guard is not going to let us in."

Kali shook her head, not understanding. "But you made him tell us what happened, after he already refused. Can't you just do the same thing and make him open the gate?"

Ashara put both hands on Kali's shoulders, with a regretful look in her eyes. "No, I can't. That wasn't blood magic; I can't make him do something he would never do on his own, such as go against direct orders. He wouldn't talk to you simply because he was a _shem_ who thinks he's better than us. It was easy to make him forget that we were elves, but I can almost guarantee that he was given direct orders not to let _anyone_ in. Trying to convince him to go against those orders would only backfire on us."

She lifted her head and looked around the marketplace. "Is there anyone else you could talk to? Someone else who might know what happened?"

Kali bit her lip, trying desperately to think. But her mind was clouded by worry; it was hard to think clearly. "I... I don't know."

"You lived here for years, Kali," Tamlen said. The merchants were still yelling at them to move; he looked at them and made a very rude hand gesture, before turning back to the little rogue. "Surely there's _someone _outside of the Alienage you could talk to."

Kali's eyes traveled over the marketplace, trying to think. She saw the row of blacksmith shops and gasped. "Oh! I could talk to Master Faucon!"

Ashara bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. "Are you sure we can trust him? Keep in mind that if you speak to someone who knows who you are, we'll be taking the chance that they'll alert Loghain to our presence here."

"He's one of the blacksmiths, and doesn't treat elves like most humans do. He was even willing to let Nelaros work for him." She bit her lip and tossed a nervous glance at Zevran, who was smiling sweetly at the row of angry merchants, apparently not listening to her and Ashara. But she wasn't fooled; she knew he heard everything, and lowered her voice. "You remember Nelaros, Ashara. He was the blond elf I was supposed to... well, when Vaughan came..."

Ashara nodded before Kali said anything else. "Yes, I remember him. Tamlen gave him his bow."

"Well, Master Faucon was going to hire him. I've only met him a few times, but he knew my mother and was always really nice to me. I think we could trust him not to betray us."

"Then let's go find him."

oOo

_It is so strange, _Kira mused to herself as she glanced around the bustling marketplace. _This city is quite unlike any in Orlais._ She had been so eager to see the capital of Ferelden, almost more so than she had been to meet the Dalish. After all, Denerim was the largest city in this country. It was the birthplace of Andraste, where the royal palace resided. She had expected to see a glittering jewel, the crowning of Ferelden's glory. This was the city where royal ambassadors came to speak with the King, where the best merchants flocked, hoping to entice a member of the royal court to their wares. Surely such a place should be stunningly beautiful!

At first, she had been sorely disappointed. The small homes and shops looked shoved together, as though whoever built them only thought of how many they could fit in a small space. There were no beautiful fountains, no decorated statues to delight the eye. The soldiers who marched around the market were wearing only plain armor, and few of the women wore jewels. The people even moved differently. In Orlais, men and women stepped lightly and spoke softly. But the people here darted around as if in a rush, always exchanging shouts of greeting to one another.

Kira found herself smiling. At second glance, there was something quite charming about their rough mannerisms. These people looked as though they were ready to laugh or sing at a moment's notice. She could see children chasing each other, darting around happily while the adults chuckled at their antics. Women gossiped to one another, giggling over this or that scandal, while merchants shouted out to passersby. They created a warm and friendly environment, something that was sadly lacking in Orlais. Kira could see that these were a proud, passionate people; it was evident in the fact that even the poor held their heads high. They didn't seem to care that their city was not built for beauty; they truly seemed comfortable in their surroundings.

Morrigan followed the direction of Kira's gaze and scoffed. "Ugh, this place is barbaric." Clearly, the witch didn't share Kira's view. She turned to Leliana. "_Must _we stay here?"

The bard giggled. "Oh, it is not _so_ bad, Morrigan. Surely Denerim is at least cleaner than the Wilds, no?"

The witch sniffed arrogantly. Her look of disdain would put most nobles to shame. "Tch, even Orzammar was cleaner than this place, and _that_ city was underground."

"Filthy or no, let us find this inn as soon as possible," Kira said. "I am sure that we are all quite eager to clean ourselves and order a hot meal." She ran a hand through her long hair, wincing at how dirty it felt. They had been on the road for three weeks; Kira knew that dust and dried sweat was clinging to her clothing, as it was to the rest of them. Even though they always camped by a body of water, where they had the opportunity to bathe each night, it did not compare to soaking in a tub while maids poured ewers of hot water over the body until the very air became steamy.

Wynne nodded, exhaustion visible in her face. "Yes, please. I am looking forward to a comfortable bed tonight."

Leliana looked at the Circle mage sympathetically. "Do not worry, Wynne. The Gnawed Noble Tavern has clean and comfortable beds. They are certainly better than any other Inn in Denerim."

"Are we sure staying there is a good idea?" Alistair asked. "It's the most popular Inn in Denerim; how do we know that no one there will recognize us?"

The bard smiled. "It is better to hide in plain sight, Alistair. No one would ever expect a group of fugitives to hide in such a popular place. Besides, we must find Gavan, no? That is his usual Inn. He stays where nobles can easily find him. They bring in more coin than poor clients."

"Ashara will expect to find us there, Alistair," Kira reasoned. "We can hardly go to another Inn without telling her or Sten. He is planning to meet us after ensuring that the horses settled in."

Luckily, the Tavern wasn't too far from the marketplace. Kira saw it as just another reason why it was an ideal place for them to stay. It would be far easier to hear news in such a crowded place and, as Leliana said, far easier to hide.

It only took a few hours, and everyone was feeling clean and far more cheerful. Wynne chose to visit the Wonders of Thedas, hoping to find some new tomes, while asking around for Brother Genitivi; Morrigan refused to leave her room, and Sten gruffly commented that he and Drake, Kali's adorable mabari, were going outside the city to train. Oghren and Aric kept grumbling about the Tavern's poor selection of ale, until Leliana finally gave them some coin and told them to find another place to drink.

Soon only Kira, Alistair, and Leliana were left; they found their way down the stairs and chose a small table in the corner of the room, whereupon they ordered as much food as they could handle. The serving girl looked scandalized at their order, but had enough sense not to comment, and promptly returned with their food. Kira took a bite of the warm bread dipped in gravy, and closed her eyes in contentment. These Fereldans did not season their food the way Orlesians did, but they still created meals fit for Andraste.

The three of them sat in silence for a time as they worked their way through the array of food. Kira and Alistair, as Grey Wardens, ate three times as much as Leliana did, but by now the bard was used to Warden appetites, and merely chuckled softly as she delicately ate her meal.

"Leliana? What are _you_ doing here?"

All three of them instantly looked up, fearing that they had been discovered by one of Loghain's men. But it was only a dark-haired elf. Leliana beamed. "Gavan! What a stroke of luck; we were hoping to find you here!" She scooted over on the bench so that he could sit down beside her.

The elf looked around at them, and grinned as his eyes came to rest on Kira. "I'm glad to see that you weren't caught by Loghain."

Kira smiled. Ashara and Leliana had hired him to bring a message to the Orlesian Wardens, asking for their help against the Blight. Though the Orlesian Warden-Commander, Mikhail, had refused to respond, she, Aric, and Riordan had been willing to defy him and aid their fellow Wardens. Thanks to Gavan, they were able to sneak past Loghain's men who guarded the border.

She leaned forward eagerly. "We were going to try to find you, Gavan. Do you know where Riordan is? He is safe, yes?"

Gavan helped himself to a slice of bread and shrugged. "Don't know. We traveled to Ostagar–he wanted to make a list of the Wardens who died during the battle–and then continued on to Denerim. He paid me extra, and said my job was done. Didn't tell me where he was going, and I haven't seen him since then."

Leliana frowned. "Do you think Loghain could have captured him?"

Kira leaned back in her seat, pursing her lips nervously. "I do not see how. Riordan knows what kind of man Loghain is. We all knew how he betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar. The Empress even held a Day of Mourning after we found out."

The bard looked troubled. "Then where would he be?"

Kira was growing more and more anxious. It was not like Riordan, he would never fail to tell them where he was. He would know that she and Aric would try to find him. He should have found some way to leave a message. "I do not know. He would have searched for the Grey Warden vault, but I do not know where it is." She lifted her head and looked at Gavan. "Do you think you could find him? If Loghain has him," she winced at the thought, "we need to know. We would pay you."

The elf shrugged. "I could try. It'd be nice to have some work for a change."

Leliana tilted her head. "I would have thought that the Blight would bring you quite a lot of business."

"Sodding Crows are in Denerim." Gavan scowled. "Taking all of my business. The nobles are using them to fan the flames of this civil war."

Kira exchanged a worried glance with Leliana; even Alistair seemed a bit apprehensive. "The Crows?" Kira asked. "Are they searching for Zevran? Do you think they wish to take him back?"

Gavan raised an eyebrow at Leliana. "You're traveling with a Crow now, too?" She smiled sweetly at him, but seemed disinclined to say anything; eventually he shrugged, as if it didn't really matter. "I don't know what brought them out of Antiva, but I think they're just looking for work. Or maybe they're trying to extend their reach to Ferelden. At least one Guild Master is here, possibly more."

Leliana nodded. "We will have to warn Zevran, in case they _are_ searching for him. But before that, Gavan, I must speak with you about Marjolaine."

Kira was sure she saw the elf pale. "Marjolaine? What the hell do you need with her? I thought you were done with that." His eyes shifted around room, as if ensuring that no one was listening.

"Nevertheless, I must find her. I believe she has information that I need. We can speak privately, and I will tell you what I need done."

She stood up from the table; Gavan slowly followed suit. "Of course she has information you need. She always has information." When Leliana reached into her purse and drew out a few gold coins, he seemed to change his tune. "Fine; I'll see what I can do." He looked down at Kira. "How long will you be in Denerim? Whether I find Riordan or not, I'll need a way to contact you."

Kira frowned. "I do not think we will be here very long; we have some business to complete, and then I believe we shall travel back to Redcliffe Castle. If we are no longer in Denerim, you can send messages there."

Gavan and Leliana walked off towards the stairs, and Kira rested her chin on her hand. She had hoped that Gavan would know where Riordan was; now she hoped Gavan would be able to find him soon. Who knew where her Brother Warden was? Loghain could have him locked up by now, or worse, he could have killed him! _No, do not think like that. If Loghain kills an Orlesian Warden out of spite, it could be enough to spark another war. For all of his folly, I do not believe Loghain would risk that. _At least, that's what she tried to tell herself.

Alistair was watching her out of the corner of his eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Don't worry; I'm sure we'll find Riordan. He's probably trying to stay hidden until he can meet with you and Aric again."

Kira nodded, trying to feel encouraged by his words. But she must have still looked troubled, because Alistair leaned towards her, concern in his eyes. He didn't say anything; all he did was wrap and arm around her. Silently, as if he was the only one who could calm her worries, the only man she could trust, Kira slowly moved towards him, and rested her heavy head on his shoulder.

oOo

The blacksmith's shop was cool, calm, and, thank Mythal, quiet. The thick wooden walls blocked out the sounds of the marketplace, and Ashara could not have been more grateful. All that noise was making her ears twitch.

She wandered around the shop while Tamlen and Zevran inspected and judged the various weapons for sale. Ashara ran a hand over the wall and found, to her surprise, that the walls were made from birch. Not a bad choice. Silver birch was available during any season and since it flourished in Ferelden, it was the perfect type of tree to use. Those who cut it down didn't risk endangering the trees. If the Dalish ever found land of their own, they would probably use birch as well.

With her hand on the thick wall, Ashara was free to subtly lean against it to steady herself, while ensuring that no one, especially Tamlen, noticed. The baby was weighing heavily on her, sapping her strength. But she wasn't free to relax and let the child quietly grow; they had too much to do. _Perhaps when we go back to Redcliffe, I'll have a chance to rest for a day or two. _

Kali walked up to the counter and put her hands on the edge; Ashara could see that her fists were balled up so tightly that her knuckles were white. "Master Faucon?" the little rogue called. "Are you here? I must speak with you."

Ashara heard scuffling in the back room, and soon a young elf walked out, wiping his hands on a thick black apron. "Master Faucon isn't here now, but perhaps I can be of some assistance." The young man raised his head to look at them and stopped dead in his tracks. "Kali?"

The little rogue jumped away from the counter as if she had been scalded and gasped loudly, covering her mouth with her hands. "Nelaros?"

The two stared at each other silently, while Ashara looked between them. Nelaros. The last time she had seen this man was when Duncan conscripted Kali into the Wardens. This was the man Kali was supposed to marry. She probably _would_ have married him, if that _shemlen_ lord hadn't tried to kidnap the women. Ashara remembered Nelaros as one of only two men in the entire Alienage who had been willing to try to rescue the women. While everyone else stood by helplessly, this man had been willing to take action.

"Kali! You're alive!" Nelaros looked almost close to laughter or tears. "We thought you died at Ostagar! _Hahren _Valendrian even held a service for you!"

Kali shook her head vehemently, confusion etched on her face. "No! I didn't die! When Loghain fled the field the rest of the Wardens, as well as Duncan and the King, died, but we were rescued."

The two continued to stare at each other, as if at a loss for words. Ashara knew she had to do something to break the tension, but before she got the chance, Zevran cleared his throat loudly and leaned against the wall. "Well, it seems that you two know each other quite well. Perhaps some introductions are in order?" Ashara noticed that his eyes were narrowed dangerously at Nelaros. Well, at least he still seemed possessive of Kali; for all that he said he didn't care. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

The little rogue jumped. "Oh, yes. Yes, um... well, Nelaros, this is Ashara, and this is Tamlen." Her hands fluttered anxiously. "They're Grey Wardens like me. Um, you might remember them. They came with Duncan to the Alienage when... um..." She changed topics and gestured towards Zevran. "This is Zevran, one of the Antivan Crows." She turned to Ashara, with an almost desperate look in her eyes. "You remember Nelaros... he was... well..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He's the one I was supposed to... to marry..."

"Marry?" Zevran suddenly straightened up, for once caught off guard. If the situation weren't so serious, Ashara would have laughed at the expression on his face. "You never... I did not know... marry?" Now Ashara really _was_ fighting back laughter. She held a hand over her mouth so that he wouldn't see her lips twitch. In all her life, she would never have guessed that she'd get to see the assassin stumbling over his words like an embarrassed Alistair.

Kali's face was painted scarlet, and Ashara's laughter died away. The little rogue looked thoroughly miserable. "It... it didn't happen..."

Nelaros looked from the little rogue to the assassin; Ashara could practically hear the thoughts tumbling around in his head. He seemed to understand that something was going on between the two of them, for he cleared his throat and said, tactfully, "It was an arranged marriage that never happened. Lord Vaughan kidnapped the women before the ceremony took place, and then she was taken into the Grey Wardens."

The assassin crossed his arms and relaxed slightly, but he continued to look at Nelaros with a glare that would have frightened most men.

Ashara figured that now would be a good time to step in and intervene. She smiled at the young man. "_Andaran atish'an_, Nelaros. The last time we met we were never introduced, but as Kali said, I am Ashara. We are in Denerim on business, and Kali wanted to see her family, but the guard turned us away. He said that the Alienage was closed, but he wouldn't give us any information. Do you know what happened?"

Nelaros leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, looking worried. "I don't know anything, either. The guards keep telling everyone that they shut the Alienage down because of what happened to Vaughan, but that was eight months ago and the gates have only been closed for a few weeks. I was here when they shut the Alienage down, and they won't let me back in."

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing helplessly. "It's almost like they don't care who got trapped, and who got locked out. If they really wanted to punish us for what happened at Vaughan's estate, they'd round up all of us elves. So, it's obvious that they're lying, but I don't know what they're really doing in there. Master Faucon tried to get some more information out of the guards, but they won't tell _him_ anything either."

Kali was so pale that she looked almost sick. "Do... do you know if my father is okay? And Shianni, and Soris?"

Nelaros shook his head with an anguished look on his face. "No, I don't know. I haven't been able to get to them since the gates were closed. They were fine before they were locked in, but that's all I know." He looked at Kali. "Cyrion and Soris have been quiet ever since we heard the news about Ostagar, and were told that you were dead. But Shianni..." For the first time, a slight smile crossed his face. "She wouldn't believe it. She kept telling everyone that you're stronger than you look, that you're going to come back."

Kali twisted around to stare at Ashara almost pleadingly. "We _have_ to find a way in there, Asha! If they're being hurt we have to save them, and I can't let my family think I'm dead!"

Ashara bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. It wasn't going to be easy, but she could see that they'd have to try. If it was her family, she'd do the same. She felt the daughter in her womb turn over, as if to agree that they needed to at least try. Ashara nodded. "Of course, _lethallan_. If there's a way to get past that guard, we'll find it."

Nelaros looked between the two women, hope dawning on his face. "If you find a way in, will you let me come with you? I need to know what's happening in the Alienage. I need to know if Shi... if everyone is okay."

Ashara glanced at Tamlen, raising an eyebrow to silently ask for his opinion. She didn't really know anything about Nelaros, but he _had_ been willing to risk death for the women who had been kidnapped. He seemed brave enough, but she wasn't sure if he'd slow them down. Tamlen gave her a minute shrug. He didn't care one way or the other.

She turned back to Nelaros. "Very well. If we find a way in, one of us will let you know. If something is wrong in the Alienage, we might need help."

Relief flooded Kali's cheeks, but she kept glancing nervously at Nelaros, as if she wanted to put as much distance between herself and the young man as possible. Ashara put an arm around her shoulders. "We have to meet up with the others now, and tell them what's going on." She glanced at Nelaros. "But we'll find you tomorrow."

As she guided Kali away from the shop, she couldn't keep the hint of a smile from her face. Kali was worried about her family, but perhaps tonight, Ashara could give her something to at least take away some of her stress. Zevran's reaction to Nelaros had given her an idea. An idea that just might work.

oOo

Kali sat in her room at the Inn, staring gloomily at the small fire burning in the fireplace. Drake was curled up comfortably in front of it. Now and again he would snuffle in his sleep and chomp at the air, as if he was dreaming about chasing cats.

But Kali was too distracted to really notice. She laid her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, unable to stop worrying about her family. What was happening to them? Nelaros was right; the guards were lying. They didn't close the Alienage because of what happened to Vaughan. So what was the real reason? And was her family safe?

She sighed and closed her eyes. It had been so strange to see Nelaros; she hadn't even expected him to stay in Denerim. Their wedding hadn't taken place, so why didn't he go back to Highever, where his own family was? At least she knew he was safe. She hadn't gotten a chance to get to know him–they met on the day of the wedding, after all–but she did know that he was a good man. He wasn't someone that she'd want to marry, but she could see herself being friends with him.

At least she knew that he was safe. When Duncan took her away, she had been so worried that the guards would have harmed him or Jandar, because of what she did. Kali groaned and buried her face against her knees. She hadn't even thought to ask him how Jandar was doing. She had been so concerned about her family that she didn't even think about Jandar. Was he okay? She hoped so.

Actually, now that she was hoping for things, Kali found herself hoping that Jandar was happy with Nesiara. Even though her own marriage hadn't happened, Jandar's wedding would have taken place after the guards left. It was such a strange thought, but Kali found herself begging Mythal to help Jandar and Nesiara be happy together. She didn't know what she'd do, if she went back to the Alienage to find that Jandar had been waiting for her. What would she say to him? It'd be horrible to tell him that he had waited for nothing... that there was another man who made her heart beat faster. But then, she had screwed that up too...

A soft knock on the door made her jump. She got to her feet and opened it, relieved at the distraction. She didn't want to think anymore. She was tired of thinking, tired of worrying.

Ashara stood on the threshold, looking somewhat excited. "Good, I'm glad you're still awake."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I just... I know that it's been a long day for you, and I thought you might not want to stay by yourself all night." She gestured down the hall. "I've been starving all day," she patted her rounded stomach, "so Tamlen stole a huge pile of food from the kitchen. I thought you might like to join us."

Kali nodded eagerly. She really _didn't_ want to spent the night with her own thoughts, but she hadn't wanted to intrude on Ashara and Tamlen's time together. And there was no one else that she felt comfortable approaching. "Yes, I'd like that, Asha."

Ashara beamed. "Wonderful! Come on." She led the way down the hall, into the larger room she shared with Tamlen. "I know that you're worried about your family, Kali. Trust me when I say that we're going to do everything we can to find a way to the Alienage, and make sure they're safe." Kali nodded, feeling a bit better. Ashara said the words so confidently; that surety was almost contagious.

But the Dalish woman wasn't finished yet. "And, as far as the situation with Zevran..." Kali inhaled sharply; the memory of that night still sent a pang of guilt through her heart. "Just know that everything happens for a reason. If Fate wants the two of you together, it'll find a way to work itself out." Ashara winked at her, but Kali didn't know what to say.

The two of them walked into the room. Tamlen was perched on their bed with his legs crossed; when he saw Kali, she could have sworn that his lips twitched. But when she tilted her head curiously, he cleared his throat and looked away.

Ashara guided Kali over to the couch, and then sat down next to her, smoothing her hand over her rounded stomach. There was a huge pile of food on the table in front of them; fresh fruits, various kinds of bread, and a huge jug of what looked like cider. Ashara reached out and grabbed an apple before looking at Kali. "Tomorrow, you and I are going to see if we can find Brother Genitivi. Wynne asked around at the Wonders of Thedas, and found out where he lives. Hopefully, he'll still be home. While you and I do that, Tamlen and Zevran are going to see if they can find a way to get into the Alienage. We thought that they would have an easier time looking around if there were only two of them."

Kali nodded. "That makes sense." She nibbled on a corner of the bread. Both men were good at sneaking; she was sure they could find a way in.

Ashara used a knife to cut a piece of the apple and took a bite. "Leliana thinks she may have found where Marjolaine is hiding. She's going to take Oghren and Aric with her tomorrow, to track them down. Teagan asked if we could find out who hired Jowan to poison Eamon, so Leliana is going to try to find out who Marjolaine is working for." She took another bite of the apple. "Alistair asked if he and Kira could have the day to themselves. He said she's really stressed about Riordan, and wants to do something to cheer her up. So I told him that I didn't think we'd need him; they can go spend the day together."

Kali found herself grinning. "Those two are cute together, aren't they? He gets so nervous around her."

Tamlen snickered. "If things keep going this way, he won't be an innocent Chantry boy any longer."

Kali was about to make a comment, when there was a knock on the door. Tamlen shouted that it was open, and when the door swung open Kali felt all the blood drain from her face.

It was Zevran.

Ashara looked at him with a fake expression of worry that was contradicted by the spark of amusement in her eyes. "Oh, Zevran! I forgot you were coming." Kali glanced over at Tamlen, and saw that his shoulders were shaking from the effort of fighting back laughter. _Oh no. What did Ashara do?_

Zevran's eyes traveled over to Kali; he looked almost amused. "Indeed? You said that Tamlen wished to speak to me about our task tomorrow."

Ashara slowly got up from the couch, holding her stomach as she stood. "I did, didn't I? Well, it completely left my mind." Kali noticed a mischievous glint in her eyes as she shrugged carelessly. "But look! You and Kali are both here! Well, I suppose this would be a good time to leave you two alone, wouldn't it? This impasse of yours gone on for too long." She tossed her head dismissively, banishing their problems with a wave of her hand. "You might as well clear the air while you have the chance." She looked meaningfully at Tamlen.

The Dalish man slowly stood up from the bed and put a hand under Ashara's arm to help her walk. The two of them went towards the door, but not before Tamlen tossed Zevran a look that said clearly, "Blame Ashara; this isn't _my _fault." Then they were gone, and the door was shut firmly behind them.

Kali stared at the floor nervously, not knowing what to say or do. She was trapped, trapped in a room with the one person she had been avoiding for three weeks. She didn't know what he was thinking; he made no movement, no sound, nothing at all. She could feel her face growing more and more red as time passed. This silence was going to drive her insane. Why didn't he say anything?

Or if he didn't want to be around her, why didn't he leave?

Finally, after it seemed like hours had passed, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. How long were they just going to sit in silence? She took another deep breath. Ashara was right; this has to stop. There was no point in prolonging this pain, right? She might as well get Zevran to admit that he didn't want to be around her anymore. Then she could be sad, she could cry and move on. Anything was better than this nervous waiting. "You can leave if you want," she said in a rush. "You don't have to stay here just because Ashara put us together."

Still he didn't say anything. The snapping of the fire was the only sound in the room; it felt harsh and strange against her nerves. Finally, Kali lifted her eyes to see if he was even still there. Nope, he hadn't left. He stood by the door, watching her carefully. Heat crept up her cheeks. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"I am not staring. I am merely observing."

This was worse than she could have imagined. Why wouldn't he just admit that he was angry with her? What did Ashara expect her to do? "Well, why are you observing me?"

The assassin shrugged. "You are the only other person here, yes?"

Their eyes met, and in that moment Kali realized that she was sick of this. She was sick of feeling this way around him. Zevran always made her nervous, but before it had been a happy sort of nervousness. She had wanted him to like her. She still did, actually. She didn't want to spend the rest of their time together avoiding him, worrying that he hated her. They were fighting against a Blight, and wasn't he the one who said that they should appreciate their time together?

Kali raised her head higher. She didn't know how he'd react to an apology, but at least she could say that she had done all that she could do. She took yet another deep breath and decided to take the plunge. "I'm sorry about what happened!" Childishly, she squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would somehow make the situation less difficult.

"What?"

Kali opened her eyes and looked up at him; he was staring at her in confusion. Was he really going to make her repeat it? _It doesn't matter. I'll say it as many times as he likes._ "I said: I'm sorry about what happened!"

Zevran shook his head. "No, I heard what you said. But why are you apologizing?"

Now it was Kali's turn for confusion. "Because I made a mistake? I thought you were angry with me."

Zevran laughed harshly, and hit the palm of his hand against his forehead. "_That_ is why you have avoided me? You think I am angry with you?"

She was so startled at his words that all she could do was stare at him like an idiot. "But you should be! I mean... I just... I pushed you... and then I didn't even talk to you..."

He came over and sat down on the couch, keeping a few feet of space between the two of them. Kali avoided looking at him. "Ah, my little Warden, there is no need for you to apologize. Ashara told me a little about what happened. I thought you did not want me around you, for fear that those memories would resurface again."

"Asha told you what happened?" Kali's eyes widened.

"Our charming Keeper has been adamant that you and I talk about what occurred. She is not one to take 'no' for an answer, if you hadn't noticed. When she saw that I would not force my presence on you, and that you did not wish to speak to me, she took it upon herself to tell me a little about the situation." Kali watched his fists clench. "I... thought I had pushed you too far..."

Kali hung her head miserably. She didn't know that Zevran thought he had pushed her, and now she felt even worse than before. "No, you didn't push me. I... I..." she felt her ears grow red, "liked it... I liked being so close to you, but then... I thought about the... the guard..."

Zevran nodded slowly. "Ashara did not tell me all of the details. You do not have to either, if it is difficult for you."

Kali bit her lip nervously. Did she want to talk about it? Yes, she did. At least, she wanted to talk to Zevran. He had a right to know, didn't he?

"No, I... I want to tell you." She swallowed nervously, avoiding his gaze. "That man that we met earlier, Nelaros, was supposed to marry me. In the Alienage, parents arrange marriages for their children, and Father paid a lot of money for Nelaros to move here. I... I didn't know him, and I didn't want to marry him, because at the time, I thought I wanted to be with... with Jandar." She glanced at Zevran out of the corner of her eye, worrying that he might be angry, but his face was a mask of neutrality.

"The day of the wedding was the first time I met Ashara and Tamlen. Duncan brought them to the Alienage; he said he was recruiting for the Grey Wardens, but I didn't get much of a chance to talk to them, because the wedding was to take place. But before we could take our vows Lord Vaughan, the son of the Arl of Denerim, came and said that he wanted to bring the women to his castle for... for fun." The words were tumbling out, like water pouring out of a cracked jug, relieving the pressure in her heart. Now that she had started, it was impossible to stop. "I begged him not to take Shianni, but he hit me in the head and I passed out. When I woke up, I was trapped in a dungeon with the other women. Guards came and took everyone away, and one guard had me cornered up against a wall."

She closed her eyes. "That's what I remembered at the Dalish camp; that's why I pushed you away. I could see the way he was looking at me, and I remembered the way he touched my cheek. All I could think about was that I couldn't let him take me to Vaughan. I... I knew that Vaughan wanted to do to us..."

Kali trailed off, and Zevran finally spoke up hesitantly. "What happened?"

"I... remembered Mama's training, and I kicked him in the knee where his armor had left a soft spot. I heard the knee shatter, and when he fell to the ground I ran out. Nelaros and Jandar were in the hall; they had killed the guards, and we made our way to Vaughan's room. When he saw us, he tried to give me money to go away!" Kali heard her voice rise angrily. "Shianni was lying on the couch behind him, bruised and crying, and he thought I would abandon her for money! When I said no, he and his men attacked us. It... was the first time I ever killed someone." She shuddered at the memory; Vaughan had been an evil man, but she could still remember the horror she felt at watching the blood rush out of his body. "After they were dead, we took everyone back to the Alienage. The guards wanted to hang me for what I did, but Duncan conscripted me into the Wardens."

That was the whole story. Silence settled around the two of them, but Kali stared at her knees, refusing to look at him. Hopefully, he would understand.

Then, almost as if afraid to frighten her, Zevran slowly put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head lightly. "Those flashes of memory will fade in time, _mi querida_. Mine did. They will always be there, but they will lose their power over you. I am willing to wait as long as it takes." He hesitated. "Unless, there is already someone waiting for you?"

It took a moment for Kali to realize what he was talking about, and when she did, she pulled away and shook her head. "Oh no! No, there's no one waiting for me." She prayed that she was right. But if she wasn't, she knew in her heart that she could never be with Jandar again. "Jandar was... I liked him when we were young, and we thought we wanted to get married, but... I don't think it would have worked..." She trailed off. Her ears felt like they were about to burst into flame. She lowered her head so that Zevran couldn't see her face. "Um... being with you... I mean... I can see that what I felt for Jandar wasn't... I mean, it wasn't like what I feel... for you..."

She felt, rather than saw, Zevran smile. He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. "I am glad to hear it, my little Warden."

Kali relaxed against him. She knew that their troubles weren't over; who could say that she wouldn't have another flashback again? But for right now, she was content. She felt as though she could take on anything. Zevran knew what happened, and he was still willing to stay with her. He hadn't pulled away.

She smiled, and rested her head against his chest. She was going to have to do something _very_ nice for Ashara.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>lethallan - friendshipkinsman; used for female  
>Andaran atish'an - formal greeting<br>hahren - the Dalish use it as a term of respect for an elder; the city elves use it for their leader_

_**A/N**: Sorry it took me two weeks to update! I was having a bit of difficulty in figuring out how to get Kali and Zev back together, but lucky for me (and for Kali and Zev), Ashara has absolutely no problem meddling. :D  
><em>

_I'm changing the timeline of some events. I've always thought it was weird that when the CE visits Denerim and the guard tells him/her that they can't go in, the Warden just seems to accept this with only a minor bit of protest. It seems to me that he/she would be desperate to make sure their family was okay. Also, in case it didn't seem to make sense, the part with Ashara and the guard was my version of Coercion. I know any class can use it, but I like to think it's a magical ability.  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking!_


	34. Whitest Lace of Light

_Many thanks to my dear Kira Tamarion, who not only went over this chapter with her awesome beta skills, but also provided her thoughts/opinions on the last section. Thanks to her, this chapter flows much nicer, and is in far better shape :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Whitest Lace of Light<strong>

Ashara shaded her eyes against the glare of the harsh summer sun, and looked up and down the filthy back alley, wishing that the house they were looking for would somehow make itself known. Her lower back was starting to ache; she felt sweat trickling down the back of her neck. She curled her toes and raised herself to the balls of her feet, trying unsuccessfully to relieve some of the pressure in her back.

Kali pulled at the collar of her tunic and fanned herself with her free hand. Her blonde hair was damp. "Ugh, I forgot how hot it can get during Bloomingtide. I'm glad we won't be here for the rest of the summer."

Ashara walked over to a spot of shade, cast by one of the houses. She tipped her head back and leaned against the wall. "The Dalish call this month _Lunadin_," she said idly. "I wish we were still with them. The forest traps cool air between the trees, and if it got too hot we'd go swimming in the cold rivers. _Hahren _Paivel would make his delicious fruit juice, and Chief Tasar would gather fresh strawberries."

Kali tilted her head curiously. "I didn't know that the Dalish grow crops. Isn't it hard, when you're constantly moving from one place to the next?"

"We don't grow our own, we steal it from nearby villages." Ashara grinned in response to the little rogue's scandalized look. "We don't take _everything_, _lethallan_. We only take what the Clan needs, nothing more." She shrugged. "We gather fresh herbs from the forest and hunt our own game, but since we don't have land of our own, we aren't given the luxury of growing food for ourselves. Since that's the fault of the _shemlen_, no one thinks twice about stealing food from them."

"How do you avoid getting caught? The humans would kill you if they found you on their land, wouldn't they?"

"We don't steal from the same village twice in one year, and we don't take more than what we need. I suppose the humans think that animals are stealing their crops." She scanned the row of houses down the alley and sighed, returning to the task at hand. "You know, I wish that Wynne had thought to ask _which _house belonged to Brother Genitivi. At this rate, we might have to just knock on all of them."

Kali snickered into her hands. "_That _would be funny. Can you imagine the look on the humans' faces, if two elves just knocked randomly on their door and then said, 'Oh, never mind. Wrong house.' " She collapsed into giggles.

Ashara smiled down at the little rogue, knowing exactly why it was that Kali was in such a good mood. She could recognize the glow of a woman in love, and Kali was positively radiant. It seemed that Ashara's plan had worked like a charm; one only had to look at Kali and Zevran to know that they had patched things up. She silently congratulated herself on forcing the two of them together, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Mythal. As Tamlen had pointed out, putting Kali and Zevran together like that could have gone horribly wrong, and Ashara was grateful that it hadn't.

Well, there would be plenty of time later to ask Kali for all the details of what had happened; right now, they had to find this annoying Brother. Ashara sincerely hoped that he would be able to help them find the Urn, and that the Ashes would be able to cure Eamon. If not, this entire trip would have been a waste of time, and Ashara wasn't going to be responsible for what she did to that horrid _shem_, Isolde.

"Wynne said that Genitivi's house was near the Wonders of Thedas, didn't she?" Ashara asked. "Maybe someone there will be able to point us in the right direction."

The two women walked down the hot, dusty alley, looking for a sign that would point them to the mage store that Wynne had been so enthused about. Eventually they came to a little building that stood out from all the others. To Ashara's critical eyes it looked extremely plain, but at least it seemed to be in a far better condition than the buildings around it. She noticed a man standing calmly outside, wiping down the sides of the building with some sort of strong-smelling liquid. He was dressed in one of those horrid Circle robes that the mages wore in the Tower. Maybe he could help them.

Ashara walked up to the man. "Excuse me, but it is this the Wonders of Thedas?"

The man turned at her voice and stopped wiping down the building. He regarded her serenely, as if he didn't mind being interrupted from his task. Ashara noticed that his eyes didn't even travel to her heavy stomach, which seemed to be a common occurrence among most people that she met, as if they were trying to decide if she was pregnant or fat.

"Greetings," the man said evenly. "I am Iain. You are correct; this is indeed the Wonders of Thedas." He gestured towards the small building he had been cleaning.

"Oh, well at least we managed to find _that_," Kali said cheerfully.

Ashara studied the calm man in front of her and suddenly felt chilled, despite the heat of the day. She had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was acting so serene and unguarded, and she wasn't happy. "Are you a Tranquil?"

She had met a few of them during their time in the Circle Tower, and Ashara would have given almost anything to never have learned of their existence. To her, the Tranquil were living proof of why templars should never be allowed to hold power over the mages. To have all of your emotions stripped, to lose your personality, your thoughts, everything that makes a person unique, was one of the most horrific things one person could do to another. That it was only done because templars feared magic, was even worse.

Iain inclined his head. "I am."

Ashara ignored the shudder that ran down her spine. Much as she hated what was done to this man, much as she would like to wipe templars from existence for this crime, expressing sorrow or outrage wouldn't do any good. She learned that lesson after the first Tranquil she had met, Owain, and knew that nothing would come of it. If one couldn't feel any sort of emotion, how could they lament what had been done to them?

All she could do was pretend that she didn't care, that his fate was nothing to her. But inside, it sickened her to see someone like this. No one deserved such a fate, not even _shemlen_. "Do you know where Brother Genitivi lives? We've been trying to find his house, but we have no idea where it is."

Iain pointed down the alley, to a small house not far from where they were standing. "He lives there. But I do not know if he is home. He usually visits the Wonders of Thedas once a week, but I have not seen him for some time."

"_Ma serannas_." She and Kali turned from Iain and walked over to the house he had pointed out, while Ashara tried to shrug off the shadow of anger that had settled over her. There was nothing she could do about the Rite of Tranquility. Nothing would come of her dwelling on it. There were too many injustices in the world; she couldn't solve every single one of them.

At least, not at the moment.

They reached the house and Kali knocked lightly on the door. Immediately, it opened; a dark-haired man peeked out nervously from behind the door as if he was expecting bandits. "Y-yes? Can I h-help you?"

The hum of a warning chimed deep in Ashara's mind, hinting to her that something was off about this man. But he looked normal enough, if a bit too anxious. "We're looking for Brother Genitivi."

The man stepped aside and opened the door wider to let them in. Once inside, Ashara shifted her hand, subtly so that the stranger wouldn't notice, and pulled energy towards her, trying to feel the air for any signs of another aura hiding somewhere. She came up with nothing; it seemed that there was no one else in the house.

Secure in the knowledge that they weren't about to be ambushed, she turned to face the man. He was uneasy about something; that much was obvious. His stance and body language radiated anxiety. His eyes darted around the room, as if searching for some way to avoid speaking with them. But if he didn't want to talk to them, why did he answer the door? Why let them in the house at all?

Kali seemed to notice that something was off as well. She fidgeted with the belt around her waist, where her daggers should have been, like she wished that she had her weapons with her. But when she raised her head and smiled at the man, her voice was as calm as ever. "We've been sent by Arlessa Isolde, from Redcliffe Castle. To cure her husband, she needs Brother Genitivi's expertise on the location of the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

There was no doubt about it; as soon as Kali mentioned the Urn, the man in front of them grew even more nervous. He smoothed down the front of his tunic, pulled on the fabric of his sleeves, anything to keep from looking at them. "I am his assistant, Weylon. Brother Genitivi _was _on the trail of the Sacred Ashes, but whether he found them or not... Maker only knows."

The warning hum in Ashara's mind began to chime louder; she watched the man carefully. She could tell that he wasn't lying, but she knew that he wasn't exactly being truthful, either. "Where did he go? We need those Ashes."

Weylon shook his head. "No, don't ask me that. He's been gone for months now; what if some accident should befall you as well?"

Kali tilted her head, her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You think he got into some sort of accident? Why would you just assume that?"

"W-well I am just fearing the worst! It's not like him to leave for so long without sending any word." Now he _was_ lying; Ashara could see the false words falling from his tongue as easily as if they were tangible. But for the moment, she kept silent, wanting to see if he would slip up and give them some sort of information that they could use. "Those knights from Redcliffe came too, and I haven't heard from _them_ either. This mission of Genitivi's is cursed!"

Kali crossed her arms and lifted her chin up; she didn't seem to believe Weylon anymore than Ashara did. "Why would the guards tell _you_ if they made it back to Redcliffe? They would answer only to Arlessa Isolde, or Arl Eamon."

Weylon looked between the two women. "I just... perhaps I am being pessimistic, but I fear for Genitivi."

"Where did you send the knights?" Ashara asked.

Weylon drew back as though he didn't care to answer, but Ashara glared up at him; by now, she had gotten used to glowering at strangers until she got what she wanted. It wasn't like they had met a whole lot of people willing to help them on this trek to stop the Blight; sometimes strangers had to be bullied or coerced.

The silence seemed to stretch on, as Ashara and Weylon continued to glare at each other. Finally, the man saw that she wasn't going to relent, and with a dramatic sigh backed down. "Look, all I could discover from reading through his notes was that he thought that an inn near Lake Calenhad would give him more answers as to where the Urn is."

Ashara could hear the warning chime screaming in her mind now. Something was very wrong. This man wasn't just lying; he was dangerous. She couldn't figure out _what_ was dangerous, but her instincts told her that if they went to this inn, they would be in danger. She caught the glimpse of a shadow in Weylon's eyes, an almost hungry look. He _wanted_ them to go to this inn; he was eager to send them into danger. That, more than anything, persuaded her to stop this pathetic charade.

She drew herself up to her full height. "You're lying." Weylon's eyes widened in surprise, but Ashara continued. "I know it, and you know it." She held her hand out, pulling at the flow of energy that flowed around the world, forcing that energy to become a ball of flame in her hand. "You can either tell us what's going on, or we can beat it out of you."

But instead of looking alarmed or nervous, as he had been, Weylon dropped the mask and straightened himself up. "I tried to convince you to give up and turn around, but you leave me no choice." He raised his face to the roof above them. "Andraste, forgive me. I do this in your name!"

Then, he attacked.

Ashara was surprised, and not pleased, to discover that he was a mage. She should have noticed it before, and mentally cursed herself for not paying attention. But once she saw how weak his spells were, she felt a bit better about having overlooked such a crucial thing. They weren't in any real danger. It took the man forever to cast a simple ice spell, and before he was even able to finish it, Kali grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him forward.

Caught off guard, he stumbled and tried to catch his footing, but Kali raised her leg and hit him in the face with her knee. Ashara sent a chain of lightning from her hand, and watch as the power hit him in the chest and sent him flying back. He crashed into the wall and crumpled to the ground. Then, he lay still.

Kali walked over to him and bent down; she grabbed his wrist and sat silently for a moment. "Well, I think he's dead." She looked up at Ashara. "So _now_ how do we find out where Brother Genitivi is? I don't think we should go to that inn Weylon talked about."

"No, it's probably a trap." Ashara looked around the modest room. There wasn't much in the way of decoration; it seemed that Brother Genitivi only kept things that he needed, but it was all very practical. She much preferred this to the obscenely elaborate castle in Redcliffe. "Maybe we can find some of Genitivi's notes?"

The two women searched through the piles of paper that were littered across the table. Brother Genitivi was apparently fond of the written word, but nothing seemed to give any sort of hint as to where he might have gone. The only information they found was about dragon worship in the Tevinter Imperium.

"I don't understand," Kali said curiously. "Why would someone want to worship a dragon?"

"The Magisters of the Imperium used to worship them when they were in power. They were called the Old Gods, and are what become Archdemons when they are tainted by the darkspawn. Perhaps there are some people who want to keep the traditions alive?"

"Yes, but why a dragon? What can a dragon do, other than fly around and set everything on fire?"

Ashara chuckled. "Well, to some people that might seem like a godlike power. Perhaps they want to worship something that is flesh and bone, rather than pray to a silent god."

"You mean the Maker?"

"Or the Creators. Both have gone silent since the Imperium fell."

They went through every single paper on the table, but there was nothing there about where Brother Genitivi might have gone. Ashara wandered to the back room, thinking that maybe they would find something there. But as soon as she set her foot over the threshold, she was accosted by such a rank smell, that she jumped back and put a hand to her nose. "There's something dead in there!"

Kali was instantly by her side; she peeked around the door and wrinkled her small nose. Ashara shook her head and stepped away from the room. "I can't go back there." She couldn't understand it; since she had left to join the Grey Wardens she had seen and smelled plenty of dead men. And darkspawn. Maybe the child in her womb was making her senses extra sensitive; Wynne had warned her that it could happen. But she was approaching seven months; why would such a thing suddenly start now?

Well, whatever the reason, she knew that if she went back there, surrounded by the stench of death, she'd end up voiding her stomach.

Kali looked at her sympathetically. "Okay. I'll go see what's back there." She took a deep breath and, keeping her nose pinched shut, darted into the room. Soon she came running back, her arms full of papers, her round eyes huge. "There's a body in there!"

"Could you tell who it was? Was it Brother Genitivi?"

"I don't think so. He looked young, and Isolde said that Genitivi was an older man. I don't know who it was, but he looks like he's been there for a while." She bit her bottom lip.

Ashara nodded. "I wonder if it's the real Weylon. Maybe this man," she gestured to the one that had attacked them, "was a fake." Her head was starting to pound; she rubbed her temples. "Something's wrong, but I can't tell what it is. I just don't know. Let's see what's in those papers you found."

Kali spread them out on the table. "They were piled on a corner table in the room."

Ashara picked up one of the pages and scanned the lines. The paper cracked as her hand tightened on it. "I think this is what we're looking for!" She relaxed her grip and read further. "It says something about the Urn lying on top of a mountain, secluded from the rest of the world. It mentions a village called Haven."

Kali lifted her head. "I've never heard of Haven." She seemed to think about her comment for a second. "Well, actually I haven't heard of a lot of the places we've been to, but if Haven is where the Andraste's Ashes are stored, you'd think the Chantry would have said something about it."

"It makes sense, if no one's heard of it; sacred artifacts are guarded from the rest of the world." Ashara smiled at Kali's confusion. "My own Clan has artifacts left over from Arlathan; we'd never show them to outsiders. They're protected and kept secret, so that they can't be stolen. It would be reasonable to assume that Andraste's Ashes would be kept hidden from the rest of the world."

Kali considered the thought. "That makes sense. So where do you think Haven is?"

"I don't know, but if it's at the bottom of a mountain I'd guess it's somewhere around the Frostback Mountains." She piled the papers together. "Let's get out of here. Maybe Leliana knows where we can find a map that would have Haven on it; I don't want to take such a long trip out of our way unless we're certain that we'll be able to find what we're looking for."

Kali nodded, and the two women left the house.

oOo

"Are you sure that you wish for me to be here, Alistair?" Kira asked quietly. "If you like, you could do this on your own."

The young templar stared at the house a few feet away, before turning to her with a sort of pleading look in his eyes. "Do I seem nervous? It's not that I'm nervous, really. Okay, that's a lie; I guess I am nervous. It's just so strange, and I'm not sure what–"

"You are rambling again."

"I suppose I am." He shifted nervously.

Kira put her hands on her hips. "Really, Alistair, staring at the house is not going to hurry things along. You may as well take a deep breath and dive in, no?"

For a moment, it looked as though he was going to take her advice. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, even going so far as to take another step towards the house. But then, his courage fled. He jumped back nervously and turned to Kira again. "You know, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I did promise you a fun day, didn't I? This isn't exactly fun. Let's go; let's just go."

Kira crossed her arms. "Do you really expect me to let you just walk away from this? I did not allow you to drag me halfway across Denerim just to turn around and slink back to the inn." She smiled up at him encouragingly. "If you do not do this now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. This is your sister!"

Without bothering to wait for a response, she got behind him and steered him towards the house, ignoring his nervous protests. She knew that he would thank her for this, later. It was not often that one got to meet one of their long-lost siblings, and Kira knew that Alistair would appreciate it.

Besides, if he _truly_ did not wish to meet his sister, he would never have brought it up in the first place. All morning, as they browsed through the marketplace, Alistair had been tense and anxious. Finally, he told her that he had a sister that lived in Denerim, and he had been hoping for the opportunity to meet her ever since they first set foot in the city.

At first, Kira had been shocked. How many bastards did King Maric have? Was one illegitimate child not enough for him? By Andraste, it was no wonder people claimed that his marriage to Queen Rowan was not a happy one.

But, despite her personal thoughts on the matter, Kira believed that it was a good thing for Alistair to meet his sister. She knew a little bit about his life, from things that he had said, and she believed that he would be happy to have a family. Although Kira's sisters and brother frequently irritated her to no end, she loved them dearly, and would do anything for them, as they would for her. Family was important, no matter the lineage. Mother would disagree with that, of course, but then Mother was of the habit of bragging about how the Thaons, Kira's family, were related to Empress Celene.

But Kira believed differently. And she knew that it didn't matter if Alistair had dozens of half-siblings, all of them illegitimate; he would love them all. Certainly it would be better than that horrid man he persisted in calling "uncle." Arl Eamon, who seemed perfectly happy to treat a potential heir like chattel, was _not_ a good example of a family member.

So, despite Alistair's protests and arguments that they should just forget the whole thing, Kira pushed him towards the house that he claimed was Goldanna's. She dragged him towards the door, and before he could come up with yet another reason why should leave, knocked loudly.

A woman soon answered the door, with a curiously expectant look on her face. Kira suspected her age to be around thirty or so. She had the look of someone who was once very pretty, but hard work and childbirth had dampened her looks. There was a hard edge to her dark eyes, and Kira suddenly had a fear that this was not going to work out like she had hoped.

"Give you good afternoon." The woman, who Kira assumed was Goldanna, stepped back to let them into the house. Kira looked around at the shabby interior and saw that this family was poor. Well, perhaps she and Alistair could help them out a bit. The woman walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a large basket. "You have linens to wash, eh? I charge five bits for a bundle."

Alistair tossed Kira a worried look; she tried to smile and encourage him. He could do this. She knew he would appreciate it later. He took a deep breath. "No, we're not here to have anything washed." He shifted nervously. "You're... Goldanna, aren't you?"

The woman studied them suspiciously and dropped the basket. "What's this, then? If you aren't here for the wash, what do you want? Who are you?"

Alistair hesitated; Kira put a hand on his arm to help keep him steady. "You can do this," she whispered.

He nodded with an anxious look. "I... I don't know if they told you about me, but my name is Alistair. As... difficult as this might be to believe, I'm... your brother. Our mother... she was a serving woman up at the castle."

Kira glanced at Alistair curiously. She had thought that Goldanna was another bastard of Maric's. If that wasn't the case, then these two were not related. Kira knew Alistair's mother, who most certainly was _not_ a serving woman. She would have been offended at the mere thought of such a thing. But for the moment, Kira held her tongue. Alistair's mother did not wish for him to know who she was, and if he truly believed that this woman was his sister, he still had a chance at a family life. She should not be the one to ruin that for him.

Goldanna's eyes widened to almost twice their size. She took a hesitant step forward, studying Alistair as if he was a portrait that she wished to verify. "You! It's you!" She suddenly scowled and spit on the fire, like a common fishwife with no manners. "They told me you was dead!"

Alistair seemed almost as confused as Kira. "They told you I was dead? Who?"

"Them's at the castle! They told me the babe was dead!"

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't know. The babe... I mean, _I _didn't die." Alistair shook his head regretfully.

Goldanna scoffed; she had such a look of disdain that even Morrigan would have been proud. "A lot of good that does me!" She crossed her arms defiantly. "I don't know you, boy. Your royal father forced himself on _my _mother and caused her death. They gave me a gold coin to keep my mouth shut and sent me on my way!"

"That is hardly Alistair's fault," Kira said quietly, driven by the miserable look on his face to intervene.

The bitter woman speared her with a look of absolute hatred. "And who are you? Some whore to follow him about and carry his riches for him?"

"Hey! Don't speak to her like that," Alistair interrupted sharply. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kira couldn't help the flutter in her stomach at the thought of him defending her. "She is my friend and a Grey Warden, like me."

Goldanna did not seem very impressed by such comments. "Oh, so you're a prince _and_ a Grey Warden, eh? Well, who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to me?" Her lip curled up into a sneer. "I've got five mouths to feed and unless you can help with that, I've got no use for you."

Alistair's face was a mask of misery, and Kira could bear it no longer. She tightened her grip on his arm and glared at Goldanna, taking care to put as much venom in her gaze as she could. "Come on, Alistair. It seems that this woman has been too poisoned by life to understand the chance you have given her. She wants nothing but your money."

He wordlessly allowed her to lead him from the house, Goldanna's scathing words still ringing in her ears. Once outside, she let go of his arm. Alistair sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I can't... that wasn't supposed to go like that."

Kira lowered her head. "I do not know what to say. I'm sorry for what happened."

"I... thought that she would be glad to see me. Isn't that what families are supposed to do? That gold-digging shrew is actually my sister?" He bit his lip. "Maker, I feel like such an idiot."

"You do not need her, Alistair. What she said to you was cruel, but you do have others who care about you." He tried to smile, but his eyes still looked sad. Kira took a step closer and put a hand on either side of his face. "I... care for you."

Something about his look would have touched the heart of anyone, and Kira came to a sudden conclusion. She had been waiting for the perfect moment, but realized that this was it. This was the perfect time to show Alistair how much she cared. Ignoring the fact that they were standing right in the marketplace, that anyone who happened to walk by would easily see them, Kira pulled Alistair's face close, and kissed him.

oOo

"You should have seen it, Ashara! He almost fell right on his ass!" Tamlen snickered, and took another drink of his ale.

Zevran lifted his chin arrogantly. "I assure you, my friend, that that was _not_ the case. I merely lost hold of the rafter for a short moment; I was never in any danger of falling."

"Oh? So that's why you started cursing in Antivan? Because you were perfectly fine?"

Ashara wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, imagining the assassin hanging from the roof, with his legs dangling in the air. "Why, in Mythal's name, did the two of you decide to climb one of the houses?"

Tamlen grinned. "How else were we supposed to get a good look at the guards around the Alienage? It's broad daylight, in case you hadn't noticed; we had to do _something_ to keep ourselves hidden. But it was worth it to see Zevran cursing like an angry _hahren_."

The assassin turned towards Kali with a sorrowful look on his face. "Do you see how cruel they are to me? Is it not horrible?"

The little rogue couldn't stop laughing. "I'm sorry, Zevran, but that _is _a funny image. I wish I could have seen it!"

"So harsh, all of you!"

Tamlen, still laughing, poured the assassin another drink. "That should make you feel better. These _shemlen_ might be weak compared to our Dalish hunters, but they _do _know how to make a good drink."

Ashara took another drink of her spiced cider–she couldn't drink the ale–and looked around the small room. It was early afternoon, and most of her companions had gathered in the side room of the inn, having finished whatever it was that they had done during the day. She could see Kira and Alistair whispering together in a corner of the room, though they weren't behaving like normal. Usually Kira spent her time flirting with the templar, giggling when he blushed and stammered. But this time they both looked embarrassed; Ashara made a mental note to ask Kira about it later.

Aric and Oghren were at the next table, wolfing down food at an enormously impressive rate, even for Wardens. Now and again one of them would harass Sten about the amount of sweets he was eating, which would earn them a hard glare from the Qunari, or they would toss a thick bone to Drake, who munched happily, his little nub tail wagging. Morrigan sat stiffly in her chair, her nose buried in _Asha'belannar's_ grimoire, while Wynne examined a scroll she bought from the mage store.

Ashara frowned. She noticed that one of her companions was conspicuously missing. "Where's Leliana? Didn't she come back with Aric and Oghren?"

Kali took a bite of bread, wiping the crumbs from her mouth. "Um, I think she's in her room."

"Why would she be in there? Things went well with Marjolaine, didn't they?"

Tamlen shrugged. "Oghren said they killed her, and found papers proving that she hired Jowan on Loghain's orders. They came back to the inn, and Gavan went to see if he could find out where Riordan is. I assume everything went fine."

But Ashara couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Leliana _never _hid in her room. Out of all of their companions, the bard was the most sociable. She loved being around everyone, laughing, talking, and sharing jokes. It wasn't like her to hide. Ashara stood up slowly from the table. "I'm going to go check on her."

Kali looked up at her. "Do you want us to come with you?"

"No, you should all get some rest. If we're going to try to sneak into the Alienage tonight, we'll need to get some sleep first." She hesitated. "But, before you do that, Kali, why don't you and Zevran go tell Nelaros? He wanted to come with us."

She saw Zevran's face darken, and stifled the urge to laugh. "Oh, don't look like that Zevran. I promised him that we'd let him go with us."

Tamlen decided to go with them to tell Nelaros, so while the three of them left the inn, Ashara climbed the back stairs towards Leliana's room. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and duty compelled her to check. After all, she _was_ supposed to be the one in charge, even though her pregnancy seemed to hinder most of her tasks. Besides, though she and Leliana would never be best friends–the blood feud between the Chantry that Leliana loved and Ashara's people was too strong–she wouldn't deny that the bard was a good person. Ashara smiled wryly; she would never have thought that she'd be worried about a Sister, but there it was.

She knocked lightly on the door, and heard Leliana's soft voice. Ashara pushed the door open and saw the bard sitting on the small couch in her room, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs while her chin rested on her knees. Ashara recognized the posture well enough; it was as if Leliana was holding herself tightly together, as if she was afraid that if she let go, she would fall apart.

The bard picked her head up and tried to smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, hello Ashara. Was there something that you needed?"

"No, not really." Ashara slowly eased herself down into the chair next to the fire. It was hard to keep her balance now that she was getting bigger. "Everyone else was downstairs, but I noticed that you weren't there. I... thought it was strange, so I wanted to see if you were all right."

Leliana seemed caught off guard. "I... thank you, that was very sweet of you. You know that we found Marjolaine today, yes? That Gavan killed her?" Ashara nodded. "I was just... thinking about her."

"You haven't said much about Marjolaine, other than that you worked with her during your time as a bard in Orlais. Were you close?" Ashara felt that there was something about Leliana's eyes, that told her the bard needed to talk.

"We were. She was my bard master; she taught me all of my skills, everything that I know. She... was my mentor."

Ashara lowered her head and folded her hands in her lap, suddenly understanding. "Like Marethari is to me. She is the only mother I remember; my real mother... died after I was born." She hesitated, feeling compelled to be honest. "It was Marethari who taught me how to control my magic, how to love and respect the properties of herbs, and how to appreciate my heritage."

Tears came to Leliana's eyes. "I was in love with Marjolaine." She lifted her head. "She taught me everything about the Grand Game."

"The Grand Game?"

"It is a competition among the nobles in Orlais, to gain esteem and influence. In public, nobles are polite and cordial to one another, but in secret they plot against each other. Bards, such as Marjolaine and I, are sometimes used to further the goals of one noble or another."

Ashara was confused. Such a concept was completely foreign to her. Among the Dalish, everyone had a place. When children reached the traditional age of five, they chose the path that they would stay on, and began their training. Every member of the Clan worked together. "I don't understand. What's the point of this Game?"

Leliana smiled grimly. "You must understand that the fountain of power and influence comes from the Empress, and so the nobles strive to be closer to her, and her throne. Those who are relatives, or those who are her personal favorites, are some of the most powerful families in Orlais. Even the barest whisper of a scandal can bring them down, and then another family can take their place."

"So, it's all about becoming close to the Empress?"

"That, and power. The Game is tiring, and the life of playing it looses its excitement very quickly." Leliana sighed. "But when I was a bard, Marjolaine taught me how to enjoy it for the simple thrill that such intrigue brings."

Ashara shook her head. "What happened when you saw her today? Why did you let Gavan kill her?"

Leliana leaned forward, resting her face in her hands. "We came to Denerim long ago, when I was still with Marjolaine. We had a job to do, and I was determined complete it; I foolishly read the documents we had, and I discovered that they showed the location of Orlesian troops. I was afraid for Marjolaine, so I told her what the documents said." She lifted her head and looked at Ashara. "You know that Ferelden and Orlais were at war, yes?"

Ashara nodded. "I know a little about it, though the Dalish took care to stay away from the fighting. My people didn't want to get involved in a human war."

"Well, tension between the two countries is still high, even though Ferelden won its independence thirty years ago." Leliana glared at the table in front of them. "Though we are supposed to be at peace, Orlais still does not take kindly to traitors. I demanded that we retrieve the papers. It was then that I realized Marjolaine... knew about the documents, that she had lied to me. She, betrayed me. The guards arrested me. They did... terrible things..." Leliana's voice reflected the horror of her words.

Ashara glanced at the fire, giving Leliana a moment to regain her composure, before looking back. "Did you kill Marjolaine out of revenge?"

Leliana shook her head. "No. I thought I was done with that life. When I escaped prison, I fled to the Chantry, where I found a safe haven. For the first time in my life, I did not have to look over my shoulder, waiting for someone to attack me. I was free to be myself." Her fists clenched tightly. "But when we found Marjolaine, she told me that she had been waiting for me. She claimed that she watched me when I lived in the Chantry. She thought that when I left to join you against the Blight, that I was planning to betray her."

Leliana shook her head sadly. "After all that we were to each other, after all the years that I hid in the Chantry, she still thought that I had some plan for revenge. I do not know why she waited for me to find her, rather than attacking me directly, but I knew that she would continue to follow me for the rest of my life. There are only two options for a bard; kill or be killed. I thought I had escaped that, but after we killed Marjolaine's guards, and had her pinned down, Gavan pointed out that she would never let me be. My only option was to kill her."

Ashara hesitated; Leliana's words made Ashara see her in a new light. How could she blame the bard for her devotion to the Chantry? If it was the first place that offered her peace, Ashara could not judge her. Her voice was soft and contrite. "I'm... sorry. I don't know what to say."

Leliana looked at her; some of the tension in her body seemed to have lessened. "You do not need to say anything. That you listened was enough. We found papers in Marjolaine's house that prove she was acting under Loghain's orders when she hired Jowan to poison the Arl. They are safe in my pack." She sighed, and looked at the fire. "One day, this will seem like it is nothing but a bad dream; it will be as shadows on the wall."

She looked back at Ashara and smiled. "Thank you for coming to check on me. And thank you for listening. You are a good friend, Ashara."

Ashara didn't know what to say, and found herself smiling at the bard. She couldn't deny what Leliana had said; perhaps they were better friends than she thought. That was enough to make her smile wider. She, Ashara, a Dalish mage who was raised to hate the Chantry, had a Sister as a friend.

Fen'Harel must be laughing his tail off.

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><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>hahren - elder<br>Ma serannas - thank you_

_I think I said this the last chapter, but I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. I hit a giant road block with this chapter, and kept deleting sections and writing something new. Then my motivation left, and I sat around playing Guild Wars (gotta get that Hall of Monuments filled up before GW2 comes out ;] ) Anywho, I think I've gotten past the block, so I shouldn't take two weeks to update again :D  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone reading/reviewing/requesting alerts. It really means a lot!_


	35. On a Bed of Spider Web

_Lots of thanks, hugs, and cookies to my beta goddess Kira Tamarion! Her thoughts and suggestions were a huge help!_

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><p><strong>On a Bed of Spider Web<strong>

Denerim was a _very_ creepy place at night.

Kali followed silently behind Ashara and Tamlen as they–along with Zevran and Nelaros–made their way slowly through the dark streets of Denerim, constantly looking over their shoulders, afraid to make any sudden sound or movements. But being quiet wasn't Kali's only concern. Her eyes darted around nervously, afraid that a bandit or murderer would suddenly come darting out of the shadows, or worse, a guard. Elves weren't allowed to be outside at night; if a guard caught them they were going to be in serious trouble. Her ears twitched as she strained to hear even the slightest noise: a movement in the shadows, a rustle in the bushes, anything that might alert her to the presence of someone else.

"You do know that it's against the law for elves to be out after dark, right?" Nelaros whispered anxiously. "What are we going to do if a guard sees us?"

Zevran, who seemed to be staying _very_ close to Kali, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You are afraid of a little darkness?"

Nelaros shook his head. "It's not the darkness that worries me; it's the guards. If they catch us, we're going to be thrown in jail."

Ashara glanced back at them with a sly smile on her face. "Trust me, if one of the guards catches us, getting thrown in jail will be the least of our problems."

"What do you mean?"

Her smile widened; Kali found herself wondering if Ashara was enjoying this. "I mean, that Loghain has his men searching for us. He claimed that Grey Wardens are the ones who abandoned your king in battle, and named us as traitors. If a guard catches us, we'll probably be killed."

"Oh, that's _so_ reassuring," Nelaros said glumly.

They fell into silence again and Kali glanced around the dark alleyway. She tried to always keep track of her surroundings, as Ashara and Tamlen had taught her, but her anxiety was making every shadow look like a potential bandit. Every rustle of the wind was someone moving, ready to catch them.

Finally, after what felt like the longest journey she had ever taken, they reached the gate to the Alienage, where there was one lone guard on duty. Before he could notice them, they pressed themselves against the wall, trying to blend into the shadows. Kali and Zevran had an easier time of it, since hiding in the shadows was a talent of rogues, but the other three managed to keep themselves concealed well enough.

Kali saw Ashara raise her hand and hold it out towards the guard standing a few feet ahead of them, pointing her finger at his chest. She heard the Dalish woman muttering softly, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up; she could swear that she could actually see a translucent strand of what looked like silk escape Ashara's finger and float towards the guard. It seemed to swirl around him and, as Kali watched, he slowly slumped to the ground.

They stepped out of the shadows and Nelaros turned to look at Ashara with a hesitant look. "Did... you kill him? We're going to have a lot more trouble on our hands if the guards find one of their own dead."

The Dalish woman raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat insulted at the insinuation. "I'm well aware of the consequences of killing a guard, _sha_. I only put him to sleep long enough for us to sneak past him. When he wakes up, he won't know what happened."

Kali's heart started beating faster, and her breathing was short, like she had just run a mile. This was it. She was going to see her family. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her wrist, conveying her excitement, while a flutter of anxiety trembled in her stomach. What was she going to discover in the Alienage? Why had the gates been closed?

With the guard safely out of the way, Tamlen and Zevran crept to the gate and lifted it up just high enough for the rest of them to walk under. The two men kept an eye on the area behind them, ensuring that no one surprised them, as Kali, Ashara, and Nelaros slipped under the gate. Then, Zevran and Tamlen followed, slowly closing it behind them.

Once inside, Kali took a moment to study the place that had been her home for nineteen years. The full moon shone the full force of its light on the Alienage, its silver rays illuminating as much as the shadows hid.

This was a different place than Kali remembered.

She had forgotten how some of the houses leaned a bit to the side, like a drunken man resting against a wall. She could see that the wood was faded and covered in watermarks; the stone path beneath her feet was cluttered with weeds and sticks. Stagnant water was pooled in the corners of some areas, and the stench of mold, dirt, and filth was everywhere. Only the _Vhenadahl _looked the same. Towering and majestic, it stood proud against the poor surroundings, like a grand noble amongst peasants.

Kali's heart plummeted. She had always known that the Alienage wasn't exactly the nicest place in Ferelden, but she had forgotten just _how_ bad it was. She noticed Ashara watching her and impatiently brushed away the stupid tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Father's house is this way."

As she led her friends down the path to her house, Ashara came up beside her, smiling sympathetically. "We'll change the way things are, _lethallan_, for all of the _Elvhen. Elgen tara din'isa ora._ When you've reached the bottom of a pit, the only way out is to climb."

Kali bowed her head. She knew enough of the Dalish language to know that Ashara had said something along the lines of, "Nothing ever stays the same." It was true, though. The elves had forgotten who they once were, and now lived a half-life, always in servitude to someone else. Even the Dalish, who refused to deal with humans, struggled to survive against the harsh climates. The elves had been brought so low; what other option was there but to climb up?

Feeling a bit more optimistic, she followed the path down the line of run-down houses, until she reached Father's house. Without bothering to knock–this was _her_ house too–she pushed the door open with an anxious grin.

The first thing she noticed was Shianni and Soris, her two cousins, sitting at the table, their heads bent together as they whispered fearfully. Kali stood nervously on the threshold as they both looked up. The three elves stared at each other for one long, silent moment.

Then, Shianni squealed like a little girl, jumped to her feet–knocking her chair to the ground in the process–and flew across the room, throwing her arms around Kali's neck. She clung to Kali and swung her around the room, laughing and crying the whole time.

"Kali! Praise Andraste; you're alive!"

Kali felt tears come to her own eyes, and before she knew it she was laughing and hugging Shianni back. Soris stood up from the table, much calmer than his sister, and put a hand on Kali's shoulder. He was beaming, but didn't bother to try and separate the two women.

"We were told that everyone at Ostagar died!" he said in disbelief, as if Kali showing up was a miracle that no one could have dared to hope for.

Kali finally pulled away from Shianni, her vision swimming with tears. She wiped them away and shook her head. "We were able to escape."

Shianni suddenly drew back from them, her laughter dissolving into anger, her hands on her hips, the very portrait of an offended woman. "You mean you've been safe this whole time? You had us worried sick about you! If you were alive, why didn't you come home sooner?"

"I couldn't!" Even though Shianni was glaring at her in a way that would have cowered even the most hardened of men, Kali couldn't help the smile that threatened. It felt so good to be back home. "I'm a Grey Warden, Shianni, and the Blight is coming. We've been all over Ferelden trying to get allies to help us fight it. This is the first time we were able to come to Denerim!"

Soris cleared his throat tactfully, looking towards the door where Kali's companions were crowded. "Shianni, before you delve further into your tirade about how worried we all were, why don't we at least let Kali introduce her friends?"

Shianni shifted her feet guiltily; clearly, she hadn't even noticed Ashara and the others standing by the door. "Sorry about that. Come in, all of you." She waved them all in with a giant sweep of her hand.

As everyone came into the house, Kali introduced them. But when Shianni saw Nelaros, Kali noticed a gleam in her eyes as the redhead swept over to him and grabbed his hands.

"Nelaros," Shianni said, in quite a different voice than the one she had used with Kali. "When the gates were closed we didn't know where you were, or if you were okay!"

Nelaros looked down at her with a warm smile. "I stayed with Master Faucon until Kali and her friends showed up, wanting to know why the gates were closed. They said they were going to sneak past the guards, and I knew I had to come with them."

Shianni jerked her head around to stare at Kali. "Wait. You were actually _willing_ to ignore a law? What, does being a Grey Warden make you immune to the laws of the _shems_?"

Ashara started laughing, though Kali couldn't really see what was so funny. "You'd be amazed at how daring Kali's gotten," the Dalish woman said fondly. "During our time in the Deep Roads, she even jumped onto the back of an ogre and stabbed it in the neck."

Shianni, Soris, and Nelaros all stared at Kali as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head. Her cheeks grew warm and she studied her feet. "Well, it was trying to kill us," she mumbled. She heard Zevran snickering quietly, and made a mental note to put some of Ashara's cumin powder in his drink. _See how much he laughs when he can't stop sneezing and coughing. _

Ashara, with her hand over her stomach, slowly walked towards the table and eased herself into a seat. Soris noticed the movement and jerked his head up. "Oh! I'm sorry!" He pushed Shianni towards the kitchen area. "Go get something to drink for our guests; we're being poor hosts. Uncle Cyrion would be ashamed of us."

At the mention of Father, Kali bit her lip and looked around the small house. There was only the main room, and a smaller room off to the side that served as a sleeping chamber for the whole family. In short, there wasn't much room for someone to hide, and Kali saw that her father wasn't here. "Um, Soris, where's Father?" Both of her cousins stiffened, and a look passed between them. That tendril of fear began slithering through her stomach again. "What? What's wrong?"

The house grew quiet as everyone looked at the two redheads. Finally, Soris cleared his throat again. "We... don't know."

Kali inhaled sharply. "What do you mean, 'you don't know'? People don't just disappear!"

Shianni set a bunch of cups and a jug of cheap cider on the table, and turned to Kali with a fearful look on her face. "You know that the guards closed the gate to the Alienage, right?"

Kali nodded. "Yes. That's why we waited until nightfall; the guard wouldn't let us in."

Shianni chewed her thumb anxiously. "Well, they won't tell us why they trapped us in here. All they said was that there were rumors of the plague."

"What?" Nelaros exclaimed. "Outside, they're telling everyone that they're trying to put down the riots that occurred after Vaughan's death."

Soris looked confused. "Riots? We didn't riot." He glanced apologetically at Kali. "After that human took you, the guards just left. They didn't seem to think that anyone else was involved with Vaughan's death, so _Hahren _Valendrian decided to resume the wedding the next day. Everyone acted like nothing had happened."

Kali frowned. She didn't really like the thought that after being taken into the Grey Wardens, everyone that she knew and loved just resumed their lives as if it were an ordinary day. She had been forced to give up her life, her family, everything she knew, and they all just acted like it was nothing?

Some of these thoughts must have shown on her face, for Shianni put a hand on Kali's arm. "Not everyone. Uncle Cyrion, Soris, and I prayed for your safety every single day."

"My point," Soris said, "is that there weren't any riots at all."

"So, what are they doing?" Zevran asked.

Shianni shook her head. "We don't know. Some men from Tevinter showed up and said that they needed to quarantine all of the sick elves in the warehouse behind the apartments." Kali noticed that Ashara suddenly seemed alert, but Shianni continued. "They said something about the darkspawn taint, but the people that they're taking aren't sick! And the ones that they take haven't come back!"

"Did they take Father?" Kali's heart sank when Shianni nodded.

"And _Hahren_ Valendrian," Soris added.

Ashara set her cup firmly down on the table and everyone turned to look at her. "Did you say men from Tevinter?"

"Well, they _said_ they were from Minrathous, but I guess we don't know for sure if they're lying or not," Soris said.

Ashara exchanged an anxious glance with Tamlen, and Kali leaned forward. "What? Is that bad?"

"The Tevinter Imperium is the only place that still allows slavery." Ashara's brows furrowed together thoughtfully. "They get their slaves through kidnap and trickery."

"How can you be sure?" Shianni asked. "Slavery is illegal in Ferelden. I doubt they'd be allowed to get away with something like that."

The Dalish woman raised her head a bit and swept Shianni a confident look. "The Magisters of the Imperium are the ones that first enslaved our people. We Dalish study their culture, so that we can know our enemies." She tapped her chin. "Slavery might be illegal here, but I don't think it's hard to imagine _shemlen_ looking the other way if enough gold was offered."

Kali felt cold, as if she had never been warm before in her life. "We have to find out what's happening! If they have Father..."

She didn't need to voice her fears; Ashara nodded before she needed to continue. "You're right. Something is going on. If they really were dealing with the sick, the guards wouldn't lie about why they've trapped the _Elvhen. _I guess the only option is to find out what they're doing."

Zevran's eyes gleamed mischievously. "So we are to attack a bunch of slavers?" He chuckled. "And here I was worrying that it would be a boring night."

Shianni rounded on Kali, completely ignoring the assassin. "You can't just barge in there, Kali! We don't know for sure what they're doing. What if they really are slavers; what if they take you, too?" She frowned, but Kali could see the concern in her eyes. "You just came back! I don't want you to risk yourself again!"

Kali smiled and put her hands on her cousin's shoulders. "Don't worry, Shianni. I'm not helpless, and I'm not alone. Ashara has her magic, and Tamlen and Zevran have weapons. We'll be fine."

The decision was made. Before anyone could say anything further, Tamlen opened the door. He, Kali, Ashara, and Zevran slipped out into the night, leaving Shianni, Soris, and Nelaros staring after them. Once outside, Kali tipped her head back and looked up at the sky. "Ashara, do you really think that slavers are kidnapping people?"

The Dalish woman frowned. "I don't know, but it makes sense. It would explain why the guards are lying."

Zevran nodded. "Humans who would raise a fuss over the issue of slavery won't blink twice at the thought of elves being punished. If they mentioned sick elves, the humans would most likely panic. This is an excuse to keep them from asking too many questions."

Tamlen lifted his tunic and grabbed the two knives he kept hidden under his belt. "Well, they're going to learn that it doesn't matter if the humans care or not. We don't need _shemlen _to fight our battles."

Kali nodded, and led the four of them down the dark paths to the run-down apartments. There was a little alleyway they could sneak through; Mama used to bring her there to practice fighting. Since elves weren't allowed to carry weapons, the two of them would often sneak to the small clearing behind the apartments to train, where no one would bother them.

Under normal circumstances, Kali would never set foot in this area after dark; the Alienage was a dangerous place at night. Since there were few humans willing to give elves work, some of them turned to thievery to make ends meet. It wasn't uncommon for someone to be mugged when walking along the paths of the Alienage. No one was ever seriously harmed–the thieves tended to reserve their aggression for humans–but it still wasn't safe.

This time, however, was different. She wasn't sure if the people from Tevinter had rounded up all the bandits, or if the thieves just got trapped outside the Alienage, but there was no one in the shadows. The whole place was eerily quiet, like some sort of ghost town in a horror story.

That thought really didn't make her feel any less jumpy.

She led the others down the alleyway to the area behind the apartments. "That building is the warehouse. I think the human who owns the apartments owns the warehouse too, but I don't know what he does with it."

"Apparently he loans it to slavers," Ashara said bitterly.

Zevran slithered up to the warehouse door and tried to pull it open, but it was locked. "Keep an eye out." While the others watched around in case someone was coming, the assassin pulled out a set of pins and messed around with the lock. Kali tried to watch him–he was going to teach her how to pick locks, so she might as well pay attention–but it was too fast for her to see. One minute he looked like he was fumbling around with the lock; the next minute the lock fell off and the door was open.

The four of them cautiously stepped inside the building, unsure of what they were going to find. But the first room was completely empty. No boxes, no tables, nothing. It almost looked like it had been abandoned. Kali bit her lip and looked around nervously. "Could Shianni be wrong? Maybe this isn't the place."

Tamlen knelt down and picked up a small shard; it was too dark for Kali to see what it was. "This looks like polished oak." He held it up to a small window, where moonlight was gently filtering in.

"Is it from a weapon or some sort of armor?" Zevran asked.

"I don't know. But it looks like it's from something that is finely crafted. I doubt the _Elvhen _here would have access to something like this."

Ashara nodded, looking at the door at the opposite end of the room. "Then this is probably the right place. Well, we won't know until we take a look." She moved forward to open the door, but before she could twist the handle Tamlen was beside her, his hand out to stop her. "What?" she asked.

The Dalish man looked wary. "I've got a weird feeling about this place. Just... let me and Zevran open the door and go in first." He ran a hand over her stomach, and then cupped the side of her face. "You stay in the back with Kali, and keep yourself safe in case anything should happen."

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Kali and Zevran looked at each other, each stifling the urge to laugh. Tamlen always knew exactly the right notes to hit with Ashara. If anyone else had made the suggestion that she stay in the back, she would have puffed up with anger. She never liked the thought that she shouldn't or couldn't take care of herself. But Tamlen had a knack for getting her to do what he wanted, while still making it sound like he gave her the option to choose.

They soon discovered that Tamlen's suggestion was the right one. As soon as he and Zevran opened the door, followed by Ashara and Kali, they were greeted by the sight of at least ten men pointing arrows at their chests, with an elven woman standing in front of them with her arms crossed.

"Did you _really_ think you could just sneak in here without anyone noticing?" the woman in front demanded. "We knew you were coming the moment you unlocked the door to the warehouse. It was rigged to warn us of intruders."

Tamlen and Zevran clenched tightly to their illegal knives, and Kali noticed that Tamlen was inching closer to Ashara, trying to shield her from the arrows pointed at them.

"So, it is true, then?" Zevran asked calmly, as if having a pleasant conversation with an old friend. "You are kidnapping and selling elves?"

"Figured that out all on your own, did you?" The elf in front of the men grinned smugly. "I am Devera, employed by Magister Caladrius." Her superior smile widened with each word that she spoke. "The humans here talk a big game, don't they? They whine about slavery and protest the buying and selling of elves, but it's so funny how the clink of gold coin can change their minds."

"You're an elf!" Kali protested loudly, unable to stand another minute of Devera's boastful words. "How can you do this to your own people?"

Devera sneered at her. "That I am an elf is supposed to make us kin? I am Tevinter first, and a servant of Minrathous second. Those are the things that matter." She reached towards the glittering bow she had fastened on her shoulder, and fingered it threateningly. Kali noticed a distinct tensing in the men around Devera; they were preparing to attack.

Tamlen took another step towards Ashara, but the Dalish woman gently pushed him aside and stepped forward. He instantly reached out to grab her arm and hold her back, but she slid her eyes towards him. Kali could see a dozen messages pass between the two of them, and Tamlen reluctantly lowered his arm.

Ashara turned towards Devera with her head raised, adopting a commanding stance that once again made Kali realize how much power Ashara had one held as First of her Clan. But Devera didn't seem intimidated. On the contrary, she seemed amused to be faced by such an obviously pregnant woman.

"You help _shemlen_ capture and enslave your own people," Ashara said flatly. "We cannot change that, and it doesn't matter anyway. _Elgar'nan esal, isa'rumina na'abel_." She lifted her hand up, and suddenly a ball of flame burst forth from her palm, growing in size and strength until it was almost as big as her head. Kali noticed that Devera's men seemed hesitant.

"But do you really wish to challenge us?" Ashara continued calmly. "I can ignite all of you with this flame before you can even give the order to attack. The others with me may look harmless, but think for a moment. Do you truly believe we would have walked in here blindly?"

The ball of flame danced in the faded light of the room, causing shadows to flicker across the walls, making the room look eerie and dangerous. Devera looked back at her men, noticed their tense poses, and scowled. She held her hands up, in the universal sign of defeat. "Very well. I am not a fool to throw our lives away on nothing. I shall let Caladrius deal with you." Her smug smile returned. "I am sure he will get far more use out of nosy elves than I will."

She gestured to the soldiers behind her. Kali, Zevran, Ashara, and Tamlen each stepped aside to allow Devera and her men to exit the room towards the entrance of the warehouse. Once they had filed out, Ashara closed her hand and the ball of flame dissipated.

Zevran reached into the large pack on his hip and pulled out some string, and a few bits of metal. "Kali, would you help me set up this trap?"

She nodded, and helped him lay out the string across the bottom of the door at ankle level, fixing it to the side panel. Then she set the shrapnel out on the floor. She wasn't as skilled at setting traps as he was, but she had learned enough to at least offer _some_ assistance.

While Zevran set down the trap trigger and poured the mixture of deathroot and hazel over it, Kali stood up and glanced at Ashara. "What made you think Devera would leave if you threatened her?"

The Dalish woman shrugged. "Lucky guess. I was counting on the thought that if she wanted to kill us, she would have ordered her men to attack as soon as we entered the room. But instead she held her men back and talked. I got the impression that she was hoping we'd surrender willingly, and that she could add us to the other elves being sold into slavery."

Tamlen ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I hate it when you do things like that. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

Ashara smiled up at him and grasped his hands. "I knew that if I was wrong, you would be able to handle it." Somewhat mollified, Tamlen laughed reluctantly.

Zevran finished setting his trap and stood up, brushing the powder off of his hands. "There we are! Should Devera or her men try to return they will trigger this trap, which will release a powder that will put them to sleep. This way we do not have to worry about finding ourselves surrounded."

Ashara let go of Tamlen's hands, her determined expression returning. "Then let's go find this Caladrius and put an end to his slave trade."

It didn't take them long to make their way through the rest of the warehouse. It wasn't a big place, and they encountered no other guards. Each room they entered seemed to be empty, though they were careful in how they opened each door, fearing another confrontation with a group of soldiers.

Finally, they reached the end of the warehouse. When they entered, it took all of Kali's willpower to stay at the top of the stairs. The room was large, with a giant cage set against the wall. She could see Father sitting with his head bowed, looking neither left nor right. Other elves–most she recognized–sat around with him, with the same dejected looks on their faces. Kali wanted to scream, to rush down the stairs and kill Caladrius for this assault on her family, for selling her people into slavery. But Zevran's steady pressure on her arm warned her to stay calm.

Caladrius spread his arms, looking up at them with a smile on his face. Ashara had said that he was almost certainly a blood mage, and despite her anger, Kali had to swallow back a spark of fear. Who knew what kind of power he held?

"Ah, and there you are," Caladrius said pleasantly. "Devera warned me that you would be coming."

Ashara's face was a mask of rage as she leaned on the railing of the balcony they were standing on. "Did she also warn you that we would kill you?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, such manners." The blood mage crossed his arms, his peaceful expression never wavering. "We _could_ fight like barbarians, I suppose, if you insist. However, I believe we are above such crude ways." A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. "I recognize the description that Teyrn Loghain sent out. You three are the Grey Wardens he wants to find so badly. So perhaps we can reach an agreement."

Kali's skin grew clammy. "Um, is that bad? That he knows who we are?"

Tamlen scowled down at Caladrius. "Doesn't matter. By the time we're done, there won't be anyone alive who will tell Loghain about us."

The blood mage sighed, as if suffering a huge disappointment. "You are truly going to make us fight?"

Ashara lifted her hand, summoning a ball of flame in her palm. "Of course. You don't really expect the _Elvhen_ to just walk away from this, do you?"

Caladrius shook his head sadly and reached for his staff. "Such a pity. Truly, I had hoped that we might reach an agreement. But alas, I suppose I shall have to kill you."

Kali quickly counted the men in the room. Caladrius had about twelve guards with him; they wore decent armor, and she could see that their weapons were of the finest quality, whereas she, Ashara, Tamlen, and Zevran were all wearing simple tunics and leggings. She knew that Tamlen and Zevran had their knives, but she had nothing of her own.

Well, it didn't matter. Mama had taught her how to fight without weapons. She always said that one could never know what would happen during a fight, and that if someone managed to steal your weapons, you better have a way to defend yourself without them.

So when the fight started, Kali rushed down the stairs, towards the first guard. He lifted a mace, preparing to strike her with it, but she slipped under his arm, twisted around and thrust her leg out, kicking him forward. When the guard fell forward, she lunged at him and twisted his neck back, wincing as she heard the bones snap.

Kali had killed a number of people during her time as a Grey Warden–mostly bandits, who thought to try and rob them on the road, but also a few at Redcliffe castle; those who had been possessed by that demon. She had thought that she was hardened to the experience, but there was something about actually killing someone with her bare hands that sent a chill through her spine.

But there was no time to think about her guilt. At least three more men were rushing towards her, each wielding different weapons. She couldn't see where Ashara, Tamlen, or Zevran were, so she couldn't rely on them to help her out. Instead, she ran towards the guards. When she reached the first one she twisted around and grabbed his arm, using the momentum of his body to flip him over her shoulder, into a second guard. She immediately ducked, swinging her leg out and knocking the last one off of his feet. They were all on the ground and, without stopping to feel bad for what she was about to do, she stomped on one of their faces, smashing his nose and possibly caving in his skull. She turned to the other two, who were struggling to get up but having a hard time of it in their heavy armor, and twisted their necks quickly, trying to ignore the sickening sounds their bones made.

This wasn't the time to feel guilty. It was either her or them, and she was not about to let them win.

With the three guards dead, she had a moment to pause and look for her friends. Ashara still stood at the top of the stairs, safely out of harms way. She stood behind a glittering magical shield and sent spell after spell towards Caladrius. Tamlen and Zevran were sweeping around the room, covered in blood as they hacked and slashed their way through the rest of the guards.

Then, Kali noticed that Caladrius was doing something weird. He stopped trying to pierce through Ashara's spell shield, and lowered his staff. Kali saw a strange gleam in his eye and watched as he reached for a knife hidden under the sash around his waist. Before she even had time to process her thoughts, she was running towards him as fast as she could. She knew what blood mages could do; she saw how he was looking at Ashara. But the Dalish woman was too busy to notice; her hands were raised to the roof and she was murmuring some sort of spell. If Kali didn't get there in time, Caladrius was going to use blood magic on Ashara.

She thought that if she could just reach the blood mage, she could kick or punch him and interrupt his concentration. But when she saw him set the knife against his wrist and slice a line down his skin, all thoughts were wiped out of her head. She ran with all of the energy she could muster and slammed into him, her arms out, knocking them both roughly to the ground.

Caladrius dropped the knife but blood was pouring out of the wound he had made. Kali scrambled frantically to her knees; before he had time to use his blood to work his evil magic, she punched him in the face. His arms were still moving, so she punched him again. And again. And again. She felt his nose shatter beneath her fist but didn't stop her assault. If he managed to get control of the blood dripping from his wrist–and now his face–he could kill Ashara before she even got the chance to defend herself.

But that wasn't Kali's only thought. All of her pent-up anger came rushing forward with each hit to Caladrius' face. She thought of Mama, dead because she refused a human; Shianni, attacked because a human wanted her. She thought of her people being sold into slavery, with no one to stop the injustice or lift a hand to save them. She thought of Father, terrifying her into submission with his demands that she do whatever a human told her to do, that she must _never_ fight against them. With each thought of these injustices, she slammed her fist into Caladrius' face harder and harder, as if she could erase these horrors from her mind through force.

Then, someone was pulling her off the blood mage. She kicked and screamed, trying to fight whoever was holding her, but arms tightened around her chest, pinning her against someone. Through the red haze of anger, she saw someone else kneel down beside Caladrius.

"He's dead, Kali." That was Tamlen's voice.

The arms around her chest relaxed, but didn't release her. "It's alright, _mi querida_. It is over." But that wasn't true. It wasn't over. It would never be over until her people could escape this half-life they endured.

A soft, cool palm pressed against her forehead. "Hush, _lethallan_. There is no need to lose yourself over this." Kali felt warmth spread down her body, as if she had sipped a hot cup of mead on a frigid day.

Her vision cleared, and the hate began to recede. Ashara took her hand away from Kali's forehead, smiling softly, as if she understood perfectly well what had happened. Zevran released his grip on Kali; she rubbed her throbbing temples, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself.

"Kali? Is that really you?"

Her attention was drawn to the large cage along the wall, where Father climbed to his feet and stared at her, his eyes huge. She rushed over to him and gripped his hands through the bars. "It's really me, Father."

While Zevran came over to pick the lock to the cage, Kali stared at her father. She hadn't seen him since she left Denerim to join the Grey Wardens, over eight months ago. There were new lines around his eyes and lips; he looked as though he had aged years in the months she had been gone. His faded hair was almost completely grey now, and his weary dark eyes filled with moisture.

"We thought you died," he said, his voice thick.

"I know, Father." She gripped his hands tighter. "But I'm fine. I'm a Grey Warden now."

Zevran finished picking the lock and pulled the cage door open. The other elves scrambled frantically to their feet and ran out of the warehouse, not even taking the time to acknowledge anything that had happened. Father stepped out of the cage and swept Kali into a giant hug.

She pulled away from him, wiping tears from her eyes. "Where is _Hahren _Valendrian? Shianni said that both of you had been taken."

Father lowered his head sadly. "He has already been shipped to the Imperium." Kali groaned miserably, and Father put an arm around her shoulder. "There is nothing that can be done for him now. What is important is that you saved who you could."

"_Shiva'dahl_!" Ashara suddenly gasped. She was standing over an open chest, holding a few pieces of paper in her hands. Her violet eyes were furious as she gazed at the writing. "These have Loghain's signature, authorizing Caladrius to kidnap the _Elvhen _and sell them into slavery!"

"What?" Tamlen peered over her shoulder, his eyes scanning the paper. "_Ira seth'linsha_! This is too far!" His face was twisted into rage. "It's one thing to chase after _us_, but to sell our people into slavery? He is a dead man!"

Ashara nodded firmly. "Yes; there is no longer any chance of allowing him to live. The Creators will demand his blood as payment for his actions against the _Elvhen_." She folded the papers and carefully slipped them into her pack. "I hope that we can wake Eamon, and that he proves as useful as Alistair claims. If not, we might have to find a way to kill Loghain ourselves."

Father turned to stare at Kali, who nodded at Ashara's words. "You... are planning to kill Teyrn Loghain?"

She studied her feet guiltily. "Father, he is hunting us. He has sent assassins after us, and claimed that the Grey Wardens abandoned King Cailan at Ostagar, when the truth is that Loghain's the one who quit the field." She lifted her head, meeting his eyes; there was no reason for her to feel ashamed. Father wouldn't approve, but she realized that it didn't matter anymore. "And now he's allowed a blood mage to sell our people into slavery. What other option do we have?"

Father frowned deeply. "Murder is _never_ the answer, daughter. He is a powerful noble; his allies will seek revenge against you. I taught you to never pick fights with a human." Kali shifted; she knew it was pointless to try and explain anything to him.

Ashara closed the chest and straightened up. "Well, thank _Elgar'nan_ that there are those of the _Elvhen_ who are still willing to fight for our people. We cannot all roll over and give up." She turned to face Kali's father with a sweet look that contradicted her scathing words. "Perhaps we should return to your house? Your family has been worried, and you can tell them all about how we saved your life by fighting against the humans who would have captured you."

oOo

The Alienage had erupted into a day of celebrations. Once word got around that the evil Tevinters were gone, the elves began to rejoice, praising Andraste for saving them a second time. Women rushed to bake all kinds of treats, and soon the wafting aroma of food drifted into the streets. Children laughed and played with abandon while their parents sang and danced in the streets.

Of course, rumors of how the Tevinters were chased off began to swirl around like a tornado. Ashara, Kali, Tamlen, and Zevran were hailed with praises and thanks, while Ashara had been accosted by all sorts of city elves, all of them asking a million questions. Was she really a Dalish elf? Really? Where were her people? What do those tattoos mean? Could she tell them about Dalish life? Was that handsome Dalish man really the father of her child? What a pity!

She fended them off with all of the skill she could summon, and soon found herself in a quiet spot near the beautiful tree in the center of the Alienage. Kali had said it was called the _Vhenadahl_, the Tree of the People. Ashara placed a hand on the ancient bark, smiling despite her weariness. It seemed that the city elves remembered far more than the _Elvhenan _gave them credit for. Their children might not learn about _Arlathan_, but they still found ways to cling to their past. Why else would they call such a powerful tree the _Vhenadahl_, or give their leader the respectful title of _Hahren_?

"There you are, _vulpasha_." She lifted her head and saw Tamlen pushing his way through the crowd. He finally came up next to her and put his hands on her shoulders, his eyes studying her face. "Are you sure you want to be out here? If it's too hot for you I can find a cool place for you to relax."

Ashara pursed her lips in mock annoyance and patted her rounded stomach. "_Emma'lath_, there is an elf growing in my stomach. All I _want_ to do is sit down and eat as many strawberries as I can." She gestured to the crowd of city elves, all laughing, joking, and singing. "But this is important to Kali."

As if on cue, the little rogue suddenly pushed her way through the crowd, followed closely by Zevran. "There you two are!" She wore a bright smile, but as Ashara studied her face she noticed that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Something was bothering the Kali. Perhaps it was her fight with Caladrius?

"Zevran managed to sneak out of the Alienage," Kali said. "He told Kira and the others that we'd be back tonight, and to prepare to leave Denerim first thing in the morning."

The assassin nodded. "Quite right. I think everyone is enjoying this time of leisure, but it is time to get back to business and find this Sacred Urn."

"That's not all." Kali leaned forward, peering at Ashara. "Alarith wants to meet you. He's always said that a Clan of Dalish elves saved him from bandits when he came to Denerim, and he wants to ask if you know the Clan."

Ashara smiled, hiding her exhaustion. "Of course."

"Do you want me to come too?" Tamlen asked, concerned.

"I'll be fine. Why don't you and Zevran go try some of their ale?" She didn't want Tamlen to miss out on what might be his last chance to relax. Once they left Denerim, they would be on the hard road again.

The assassin laughed, and clapped Tamlen on the shoulder. "I would not say no to that."

Tamlen grinned. He pressed a quick kiss to Ashara and followed Zevran through the crowd of elves, while Ashara and Kali went off in the other direction. As the two women walked, Ashara took a moment to study Kali's profile. Now that they weren't being hassled by everyone, she saw the smile slip from the little rogue's face. "Kali? Is everything okay?"

For a moment, it seemed as though Kali would answer honestly. But, then she plastered that smile on her face and tried to look cheerful. "Yes, everything's fine."

Ashara raised an eyebrow; she didn't believe a word of it. The little rogue looked up at her, saw her skeptical look, and dropped the merry expression with a sigh. "Well, I guess being here is just... different than I thought it would be. I had an idea of how things were in the Alienage, but now that I'm here it seems like I was completely wrong." She frowned. "I guess that doesn't make any sense."

"It does, actually," Ashara said. "I felt much the same way when we found my Clan. Before I became a Grey Warden, I was part of the _Elvhenan_. I knew that they were my people and I was comfortable with them as my family. But when we saw them again it felt... I don't know. Everything seemed different. I had seen and done things that they could never understand, and I've adopted a view of the world that they wouldn't agree with."

Kali nodded. "Yes, I think that's what I mean." She inclined her head towards a row of houses, where her father stood talking to some of the other men. "I even see Father differently. It used to be that I always did what he said. I never questioned him, and I tried my best to be a good daughter. But now..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

Ashara remained silent; she could hardly voice her own opinion, which was that she held an intense dislike for Kali's father. From what the little rogue had told her, after Adaia died Cyrion became so lost in his pain and terror that he instilled fear in his daughter. Rather than protecting her, he taught her to be submissive to those around her. Thank _Mythal_ that Kali was able to escape such a dark world.

"Do you see that man over there?" Kali pointed to a dark-skinned elf standing silently next to a pretty woman who chatted happily with a friend. For some reason, Ashara got the impression that the man was distinctly trying to avoid looking at them. "That's Jandar."

"I know Jandar; you've mentioned him before. He's the man you wished to marry?"

"That's right." Kali laughed, but there was no humor in it. "The one I thought that I loved. That woman next to him is Nesiara, his wife. Zevran and I tried to talk to them. I just wanted to be polite, and ask how they were doing. Well, I also wanted to make sure that he was happy, that he wasn't waiting for me to come home. But he wouldn't talk to me; he wouldn't even look at me. Nesiara did all of the talking. She told me that my time as a Grey Warden had made me too skinny." The little rogue tilted her head. "I think she was trying to insult me, but she was really nice when she said it."

Ashara choked on a laugh. "Oh Kali! Of course she was trying to insult you! She's probably heard all about how much Jandar wanted to marry you, and feels threatened. And why wouldn't she? Look at you!"

Kali frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're a beautiful woman! I can guarantee that most women will feel threatened by that."

A light flush crept up Kali's cheeks, and Ashara winked slyly. "But Jandar and his moon-faced wife don't matter. He would never have made a good mate." She pointed to the dark man. "Look at how submissive he is. You wouldn't want someone like that, would you?"

Kali started giggling; a true giggle that made her bright green eyes sparkle with laughter. "True! I think I've developed a thing for daring men who constantly make naughty jokes."

The two women snickered for a time, but then the smile drained away from Kali's face. She sighed, and twisted a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "I just wish that things weren't so different; I kind of feel like a stranger here. Even Shianni seems distant, and she used to be my best friend."

Ashara nodded, understanding exactly how Kali felt. "I suppose this is what Duncan meant when he said that we would give up everything to become Grey Wardens. We'll always feel apart from our kin. But it's not all bad." She smiled. "We may have lost our home and our families, but I like to think that we gained a new family. We're both Grey Wardens, which means that you are my _ashalan_, my sister."

Slowly, the smile returned to the little rogue's face. "Sisters. I like that thought." Her smile widened until she was positively beaming. "Yes, you're my _ashalan_."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>sha - literally means man; used as a formal noun, to indicate distance between two people<br>Elgen tara din'isa ora - Life inevitably changes  
>Elgar'nan esal, isa'rumina na'abel - Elgar'nan sees, and will be the one to weigh your sins<br>Shiva'dahl - an exclamation of surprise, comparable to someone saying "Dear Maker!"  
>Ira seth'linsha - That coward<br>Vhenadahl - Tree of the People; a tree in the center of the Alienage, used to remind the elves of who they once were  
>ashalan - literally means 'woman of the blood'; used as a word for sister<br>Hahren - city elves use it as a title for their leader; Dalish elves use the word for 'elder' and give the title to those who deserve respect  
>Emma'lath - my love<br>_

_**A/N:** You may have noticed that Ashara and Tamlen used a lot more Elvish than they've used in previous chapters. Well, I was playing through DA2 again and I noticed that most of the other races (Dalish and Qunari) constantly slipped their language into conversations with others. I've been wanting to do that with Ashara and Tamlen for a while now, but Bioware doesn't give much to go on, which means I either mix words into something that might reasonably make sense, or I just make up words. After playing through DA2 again, though, I thought it would be a good idea to have the two Dalish do the same and was encouraged to do so. Also, I minimized the fighting in the slaver warehouse. With Ashara being pregnant, I assume that every battle is even more dangerous than normal. If she gets hit in the stomach, she risks seriously harming her child. The fight with Caladrius was unavoidable, as they would have never let him just walk away, but anywhere else I could reasonably avoid a fight, I did so.  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, requesting alerts, or reading!  
><em>


	36. With a Prayer in the Air

_Many many thanks to Kira Tamarion for her speedy beta work, and especially for her patient suggestions/thoughts which really helped out a lot :D  
><strong>Warning:<strong> the second part of this chapter is NSFW_

* * *

><p><strong>With a Prayer in the Air<strong>

Ashara leaned against the slender fringe tree, pressing her back into the friendly bark as she tried to sit up straight. Her legs were loosely crossed, and a small pile of bay leaves mixed with juniper berries burned in front of her. She closed her eyes and relaxed her palms on her knees, inhaling the smoke and trying to clear her mind of all thoughts or worries.

That seemed to be an especially difficult task that night, given that the child in her womb didn't seem to care to sit still. Ashara could feel her daughter rolling, kicking, and hiccuping, turning her stomach into a play area.

She tried to ignore the child moving around in her stomach. Though the sensation was still a precious gift, Ashara had to clear her mind of any and all thoughts if this task was to succeed.

Since that night after the fight with _Asha'belannar_, when _Sylaise_ had come to Ashara to warn her about the future, the Goddess had remained silent. But, Ashara had been plagued by dreams of others. She heard booming voices predicting a time of darkness. They swore that the sun would hide its face, that the moon would be swallowed. They cried out to the skies, warning of death and destruction, demanding that Ashara find a way to stop it.

Yet no matter how many times Ashara tried to beg them for answers, or to be just a bit more specific, she always came away confused. How was she supposed to stop something when she had no idea of what it was? As time went on and the dreams persisted, she began to grow paranoid of what she was even hearing. Were the voices actually demons? Were demons trying to cloud and confuse her mind, lowering her awareness so that they could slip in and possess her? Or was it really the Creators? Ashara felt that as First to a Clan, she should have been able to tell the difference between a demon and one of the Creators, but no matter how many times she meditated or prayed for guidance, she was still confused.

The smoke from the bay and juniper floated around her, slithering into her senses. It was time. Ashara took a deep breath and raised her face and arms to the night sky. "_Mythal_, Mother of the Creators, your daughter begs for your help. Tell me what it is I should know." She took another deep breath. "_Elgar'nan_, Father of Life, your child pleads before you. God of Vengeance, tell me how to prepare. If there is darkness on the land, I must be ready! I beg both of you, Mother and Father, to help me!"

She sat in silence, her eyes closed and her palms still facing the sky. Her arms began to grow tired but she refused to lower them. She must sit like this, in the proper position with the smoke drifting around her, until she received a sign that her prayer had worked. Then, a little sparrow suddenly took flight from the tree Ashara rested against. She watched as the bird chirped happily and climbed through the night air. Everyone knew that birds were the messengers of the Creators, the only animal that could cross the Veil to the Beyond on their own. Ashara watched the bird until it disappeared into the sky; only then did she lower her arms and smile. The sparrow would take her pleas to _Mythal _and _Elgar'nan_. Perhaps the gods would listen and give Ashara an answer.

Or, perhaps she would hear nothing.

Ashara sighed deeply and ran a hand over her rolling stomach. She knew that this might all be for nothing. The Creators didn't work on mortal schedules. They took their time in giving an answer, and often the answer was more like a riddle. Keeper Marethari always said that in order to hear the Creators one must listen to the wind, the trees, and the birds. Anything could be a sign. Even the clouds passing over the sun could be a response from _Elgar'nan_.

Well, she had done all that she could do at this point. She had burned the mixture of bay and juniper, both herbs favored by _Mythal _and _Elgar'nan_, and she had sent up her prayer. There was nothing left that she could do. Either they would respond, or they wouldn't. Simple as that.

"Are you finished?"

Ashara glanced around at Tamlen's voice and saw him peering around the tree, looking at her with concern on his face. She smiled; it was almost like being back at the Clan, when she would disappear from camp to mediate, always secure that Tamlen was sitting nearby, keeping watch.

"I did all that I could do," she said, leaning forward as best she could and holding her hand over the small fire burning the mixture of herbs. She slowly pulled away the energy that created the flames, forcing the fire to die out. "I asked _Mythal _and _Elgar'nan_ for answers. Hopefully they'll tell me what I need to know."

Tamlen sat down next to her, smiling as he always did when he looked at her stomach. He put a hand over her belly, his smile widening as he felt their daughter kicking and rolling around. But, then the smile slid from his face; he looked at her. "I don't like this, _vulpasha_. Your dreams are keeping you from sleeping; almost every night you whisper and cry out."

Ashara rubbed her tired eyes. What he said was true; she often woke up in the morning feeling as though she hadn't slept at all. "I know, but I can't stop it. There aren't many herbs I can take–herbs that would give me a dreamless sleep–without harming the baby, so I don't know what to do."

His frown deepened; she saw the swirling tattoo on his forehead twitch. "You need your sleep; you look drained half of the time. Even Alistair noticed, and asked me if you were all right."

Ashara tried to shift, to relieve some of the pressure she felt against her ribs, but it didn't do much good. No one had bothered to tell her that as she progressed along in her pregnancy she'd almost always feel uncomfortable. That was something she would have liked to know in advance. "I'm almost eight months; the baby will come soon enough. Then, I should be able to handle the dreams." She took care to keep her voice light, to hide her own anxiety. If she admitted how confused and nervous she was, it would only make Tamlen worry more.

Tamlen nodded, trying to feel consoled by her words, but she could see that he was still uneasy. She put her hand over his and gripped it tightly. "We're going to stop at Redcliffe before we try to find Haven. By now, the Dalish should have started gathering there. I'll ask Marethari for her opinion, and see if she can help me."

That seemed to be the right thing to say, if there was a right thing. Tamlen was used to listening to the Keeper's vast wisdom; he believed that if anyone could help Ashara, it would be her. He settled down and leaned back on his hands. "Good. Maybe she'll be able to help you get rid of these dreams."

Ashara winced as the baby delivered a particularly hard kick to her stomach. Really, couldn't she just settle down for a bit? It seemed that almost every night her daughter grew more and more active. She seemed to prefer to sleep during the day, when Ashara would have preferred her to move. It was almost like she waited until Ashara was trying to rest, and then decided to start kicking.

She put a hand over her stomach, attempting to calm the baby with her touch, but of course that didn't work. She sighed. "Should we get back to camp? I'm sure Leliana has finished cooking the evening meal, and I'm hungry."

Tamlen sat up, with a wary look on his face. "In a minute; there's something I wanted to talk to you about first."

Ashara looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

He crossed his legs in front of him and leaned forward, looking at the ground, the trees, the sky, anywhere but at her. Ashara was intrigued; it wasn't like Tamlen to suddenly seem nervous over nothing. "We decided that after the Blight you and I would be bonded, right?" he asked.

She nodded, brushing back the instant fear that he would tell her he didn't want to mate with her. But of course she was being ridiculous. Tamlen would never change his mind.

"Well, I realized that after we wake Eamon all we have left is kill Loghain and then we can bring the Archdemon out; we're almost ready to end the Blight. I was thinking about going through the mating ceremony, and I realized that you were missing something."

Ashara frowned, curious and confused. Tamlen pulled his pack towards him and carefully drew out a delicately carved wooden circlet. He handed it to Ashara without looking at her. "I thought... you might like to have this."

She turned the circlet over in her hands, her breath catching in her throat. It was beautifully crafted, three slim strips of graceful oak that twisted around each other to form a flowing crown. Vines and leaves had been woven around the twisted wood to form a stunning crown of nature, like something _Sylaise_, Goddess of the Forest, might wear. Tears pricked at the corner of Ashara's eyes but she hastily brushed them aside.

Among the Dalish, it was a tradition for young women, at the time of their bonding ceremony, to wear the same circlet that their mother had worn during their own _Vunin'lath_, or Mating Day. So much had been lost to the _Elvhenan _that they clung to whatever traditions they could remember from _Arlathan_. To this day, mothers placed the circlet on their daughter's hair, beaming with pride and reminding others that the crown had been in their family for generations.

But, Ashara's mother had belonged to another Clan, one that refused to allow her to mate with Ashara's father. Not only did Ashara's parents never go through the ceremony, but when Mother died, all of her possessions and belongings were given to her Clan; Ashara had never had anything of her mother's. She had been acutely aware of the fact that when she bonded with Tamlen, she would not have the honor of wearing her mother's circlet.

Though the Clan would never have mentioned it–such a painful detail was considered impolite to comment on–Ashara's _Vunin'lath_ would have been a painful reminder that she had no mother by her side. Her mother would not be there to hand her to Tamlen, or dress her hair with flowers, or even give her a blessing.

She stared at the beautiful crown in her hands. "Tamlen, did you make this?" she asked, her voice thick.

He nodded nervously. "I know it's not... normal, for a man to make the circlet for his mate. But well, I just thought that with everything else going on, our _Vunin'lath_ should be a day for you to be happy. I... don't want you to be thinking of what happened to your parents..." He cleared his throat. "Leliana helped me with the vines and leaves. I couldn't get them to fit around the wood; she heard me cursing at it and offered to help. Do you... like it?"

Ashara couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from it. "I love it! It's beautiful!" She lifted her head and smiled at him, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. It must be the hormones that were making her get all teary-eyed. Yes, that was it.

Tamlen moved towards her and put his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest while he rubbed his face in her hair. "I'm glad you like it. You can wear it during our ceremony, and when our daughter is old enough you can give it to her."

Ashara nodded, sighing at the feel of his hands winding around her shoulders. "Our child will always know that her parents came together for love."

She closed her eyes in a delicious sense of elation as his lips traveled down her neck and shoulder. Then, his lifted his head and covered her face in light kisses, sweetly brushing his lips against her eyebrows, nose, jaw, and finally her lips. She sighed, melting into his arms like snow under the sunlight and pulled him closer, running her hands through his dark gold hair.

The evening meal could wait.

oOo

Kali sat on the bank of a small stream, dipping her feet in the cold, fresh water. It was a hot night, and she was grateful that Ashara always made sure that they camped near a fresh body of water. Though the camp was a little ways away, Kali was hidden by the bushes and trees. Without anyone to see her, she felt comfortable enough to strip off her boots and leggings, and let the cold water massage her sore feet.

She leaned back on her hands, staring up at the streak of sky visible above the stream. The moon was hidden tonight; only the stars glittering in the heavens offered any sort of light. She swished her feet back and forth in the water, as if she could somehow kick away her thoughts.

If she was completely honest with herself–and with no one around she had the freedom of honesty–she was actually glad to be away from Denerim. The group had only been on the road for a few days, and though they weren't making much progress, what with Ashara's pregnancy, Kali was grateful to be away from Denerim's bustling streets and loud noises.

She could almost laugh at herself for her changing views. After Ostagar, she had wanted nothing more than to go back home and see her family, but when she actually did, and saw the Alienage again, all she wanted to do was leave. In her defense, though, she hadn't expected her home to be so... different.

Everyone seemed distant and strange to her; even Father. It seemed like, in the few short months that she'd been gone, everyone had changed. Or, maybe she was the one who changed, and everyone else was still the same. Kali bit her lip thoughtfully. Maybe that was it.

After all, Father had acted like he normally did; it was just that Kali now saw his opinions and thoughts in a different light. When he pulled her away from everyone else and asked if she could leave the Wardens and come home, she had been shocked by the suggestion. But, she couldn't blame him for asking, could she? It wasn't like he could really understand what being a Grey Warden meant.

She sighed and leaned forward, frowning at the flowing stream. Father had been disappointed when she told him that she could never leave the Wardens, but she had been honest. Besides, she didn't think she could ever go home again. Even if the Blight ended tomorrow, even if the Archdemon died and there was no need for the Grey Wardens, she didn't think she could stand to be home. Not anymore.

If anything, Kali thought that she'd like to keep traveling, with her companions, of course. Sure, at first she didn't like traveling. Sleeping on the ground was difficult, and eating only what they could find often left them hungry, but she enjoyed it. Every day brought some new adventure; each morning was a chance at learning something new.

Besides, _someone_ had to fight for her people. She wasn't exactly sure how they were supposed to bring freedom and equality to the elves, but something had to be done. She couldn't just sit by and let her people suffer. Not anymore. The elves of the city did absolutely nothing to improve their lot in life. The Dalish might try to collect their history, but even Ashara admitted that the _Elvhenan_ only sat around and waited for time to change things. No one seemed willing to take that first step, but Kali knew that she and Ashara would.

Remembering the fight with Caladrius, Kali's hands balled into fists and she scowled at the stream. The humans only complained about slavery in theory, but look at what happened. Loghain had been only too willing to look the other way for the promise of gold. Humans didn't really care. Elves were frequently taken in as servants, where they were paid a pitiful sum for hours of hard work, and were treated lower than dogs. Human men leered at elven women when they walked through the streets, and it wasn't uncommon to hear about an elven woman being taken against her will. But no one did anything.

She heard a snap, harsh against the soothing sounds of the rushing water; she reached for the daggers sitting next to her, ready to defend herself. But it was only Zevran. He smiled when he saw her. "Ah, there you are, my little Warden."

Kali watched him approach. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all. Leliana has finished with the evening meal and sent me to collect you." He looked around the area. "Well, actually Ashara, Tamlen, and Morrigan are also gone from the camp, but I have no such hopes of finding them. I suppose they will have to eat later."

"Oh. Well, I'm not really hungry." As soon as she said the words, her stomach started growling, loudly.

Zevran chuckled and sat down next to her. "For some reason, I am inclined to disagree."

Kali couldn't help but smile a bit. "Fine, I'm hungry. I just don't really feel like getting up."

"Is there something on your mind, _mi querida_?"

For a moment, Kali wasn't sure if she wanted to answer. Did she really want to tell him what was bothering her? But if she didn't, then she'd constantly think about it. So, she straightened up and looked at him. "Do you remember the fight with Caladrius?"

The assassin raised his eyebrows, looking at her teasingly. "Of course. It was only a few days ago, after all. Much as Wynne likes to accuse me of having only one thing on my mind, I _do _have quite a decent memory."

She ignored his attempt at humor. "Well, you and Ashara, and even Tamlen, acted like what I did was normal." Her fists clenched. "All Ashara said was that I needed to calm down, but none of you even looked at me like I had done something wrong! Why? You had to pull me off of him, Zevran. I wanted to kill him! I _did _kill him! Why did you all act like it was nothing?"

Zevran turned to look at the black water flowing gently beneath the moonless sky. "I think that each of us understood your reaction, because we have all been in such a situation."

"You have?"

"We are all of us only mortal. We all make mistakes, and we have all allowed our anger to get the better of us at one point or another." He shrugged carelessly. "In the Crows, it is something they beat out of us from an early age. Losing control like that can cause you to make mistakes, of course, but we are all guilty of it at one time or another."

"Even you?" Kali's eyes widened; she could hardly imagine calm, controlled, arrogant Zevran ever getting so lost in his anger that he simply reacted.

The assassin laughed. "Even I!" He put a finger to her lips. "But, should anyone discover such a shameful secret it could ruin my reputation; so let us just keep this between you and me, yes?"

Kali pulled her feet out of the water and rested her chin on her knees. "So, how do you keep it from happening?"

"You must understand that it is the same everywhere, my little Warden. You reacted because you were angry at the injustice forced upon your people, but I am afraid that Ferelden is not alone in its problems. Children, even humans, are sold into slavery in Tevinter; the Chevaliers of Orlais attack poor men and take their women, knowing that there is no one to stop them. And all across Thedas, in almost every country, there are Circles that lock mages away for the simple crime of being born."

He looked at her with a sad smile. "You cannot fight against everything. It is better to reserve your anger and focus on changing what you can."

"I just... I never really realized how bad the world was." After she said the words, she wished she could take them back. She must sound like a child compared to Zevran, who had seen and done more than she could ever imagine.

However, he didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't care. "It is true, but you must also see that there is quite a lot of good in the world, as well. It is not all evil."

Kali lifted her head and studied him curiously. "How is it that you can think like that? I mean, with all that you've gone through, with everything that you've endured, how do you manage to laugh and act like nothing bothers you? I want to learn to do that."

"In truth? It is because I expected no better. I learned to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they did not come around too often."

"Oh." She frowned. "I don't think I could do that."

Zevran smiled. "I do not think so either, _dulce mia_." He saw her frown deepen and laughed. "But, there is no need for you to behave like me. You are your own person, yes? Fear not, _mi querida_, you will learn from this, and you will learn how to control your emotions. In the end, you will be stronger for it."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so." He pulled her to him and gathered her in his arms. "You constantly doubt yourself, but you have no reason to do so."

She rested her head against his chest and pulled her legs up over his, so she was almost sitting his lap. His words made her feel better than she had since they arrived at Denerim. "Thank you, Zevran."

She felt his chest rumble as he chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Oh, I think _I _should be the one thanking you."

"Why?"

His hand ran over her leg, up her shin to settle on her knee, grinning playfully. "I do not think I have ever seen your bare legs before. It is something I am grateful for."

Kali felt heat creep up her face until even her ears were hot. She didn't know what to say to that, but part of her felt like she should explain why she had taken her leggings off. "Well... I..."

But Zevran only laughed and lowered his lips to her ear. "You do not need to say a thing, _mi querida_. I am not complaining at all!"

He lifted her chin up with his free hand and brought her face closer, gently brushing his lips against hers, then kissing them. As they kissed, his other hand gently traveled up her leg, caressing her outer thigh. Kali felt that that her ears were going to burst into flame, but she didn't dislike the way it felt. Quite the opposite, in fact. His touch made her feel like she was wrapped in a fresh sheet warmed by the sun.

Without thinking, she sat up in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, winding her fingers through his hair. Confidence surged through her as she heard him groan. This man that she loved wanted _her_. Zevran was an assassin, a man who had been with countless women, and some men, but he wanted to be with her and her only. She knew, with a sudden insight, that _she _had the power to make him moan with desire. It was a powerful realization.

Warmth spread through her when he broke off the kiss and buried his face in the open collar of her tunic, kissing the nape of her neck and pushing the tunic off her shoulder to tease the skin of her collarbone. Shivers went down her spine, a delicious wave of pleasure that amazed her.

After a few moments, Zevran lifted his head and leaned back. His smile held a promise, an intense desire that Kali was wholly unfamiliar with. He reached towards his waist and peeled off his shirt. Kali blushed, but despite her embarrassment at being so close to his naked torso, she stared at him like a poor peasant woman confronted by a king.

Zevran really hadn't been joking when he told Alistair that he had more tattoos on his body. The same pattern on his cheek was on the side of his waist, delicately swirling around the side of his body, somehow highlighting the muscles in his stomach and chest. She was both nervous and fascinated, and almost afraid to touch him. She could see in Zevran's eyes that he understood her confusion. Gently, he gathered her in his arms, pressing her against his chest. Kali was surprised at how much she enjoyed the feel of his skin against her cheek. His warm, dark skin smelled of tanned leather and wood smoke.

Slowly, she became aware of Zevran leaning back so that he was lying on the ground, pulling her with him. She took a deep breath, willing herself to be calm. This wasn't going to be a repeat of what happened at the Dalish camp. Her heart beat wildly in her chest; the warmth was now spreading down her legs. She wanted this. She didn't want to panic again.

When she was lying on top of him, she didn't freeze. There was no moment of panic, no fear, nothing. Instead, she felt comfortable and secure; she could move away at any moment if she chose. She looked down in his eyes and saw his smile widen.

It was as if he understood exactly what she was thinking. Propping himself up with one arm, he used his free hand to cup the side of her face. "I will make this as easy as possible, _mi querida_." He hesitated. "But, only if you choose to continue."

He was leaving the choice completely up to her; Kali felt like her heart was swelling. Lying on top of him as she was, she didn't feel cornered or suffocated. Her body wasn't freezing like it had before, and though the memory of that guard threatened to surface, she was able to firmly push it away and focus only on this moment.

"I... I want..." she stuttered, unsure of what to say. Would it sound weird to just come out and say that she wanted to keep going? That she wanted to see where this would lead, and how it would feel? That she wanted to experience it with him?

Thankfully, Zevran didn't seem to expect her to say anything; her eyes seemed to answer his questions. His smile reflected the joy in his eyes as he unbuckled her belt and slowly traced his hands up her legs, only this time moving up to her waist, pushing her tunic with it. His movements were slow and careful; he gave her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. When she didn't, he lifted the tunic over her head and tossed it carelessly to the side.

Wearing nothing but her smallclothes, she felt her face redden as she watched his eyes travel over her entire body. He ran his hands down her shoulders and waist, before pulling her to him to cover her face in kisses. "You are so beautiful, _mi Corazon_," he said in a hoarse whisper.

Then he sat up, gently pushing her back until she was sitting on her heels. Still watching her carefully, he shrugged out of his pants before pulling her back down. They were practically naked, but instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, Kali felt nothing but a thrilling mixture of curiosity and desire.

The two of them lay together for a while, exploring each other's bodies while Kali began to grow more comfortable and confident. She learned that she liked the feeling of his hands on her stomach and back, that she enjoyed the sensation of his lips against her skin. She discovered, much to her own delight, that she could make him groan just by running her fingers over his chest. With gentle fingers, she learned the feel of his skin, the muscles in his body.

She lost track of how long they lay wrapped in each other's arms or when they had removed their smallclothes. Zevran looked at her, his face full of love and desire, and Kali knew that she was ready; he nodded and slowly rolled her onto her back. He looked into her eyes as he slowly and gently entered her. She felt a brief, searing pain which soon melted into a pleasure she had never known. She found that she didn't care about the pain.

She knew that she was discovering something beautiful. Now, she understood exactly why Ashara said that love was such a precious thing. This moment with Zevran was more powerful than anything she could have imagined, and she would carry the memory of this night close to her heart, forever.

oOo

Morrigan sat cross-legged amidst the grass, surrounded on all sides by trees and brush. The moon was absent from the sky, taking its light with it; she was lucky to have found this small space. What she needed to do required room, and the possibility to remain hidden.

By the light of a small fire contained in a glass jar, she carefully reached into her pack and drew out two small bowls. She set them in front of her before pulling out a few packets of herbs, some bottles of oil, and a small knife. She placed the items in front of her and then grew still, her ears straining to hear any signs of someone approaching. No one must see her. It was imperative that no one know of her plans until exactly the right moment.

After a few tense, silent, moments, she was satisfied that she was alone. Only the forest animals were aware of her presence, but they had better things to do than acknowledge a witch sitting alone, brewing a potion. So long as she did not threaten them, they would allow her to stay there.

Morrigan stared at the objects arrayed in front of her, wondering at the proper way to proceed. This potion was only the first step in a plan that must be carefully considered. The second step was to lie with a new Grey Warden. But, there were only two options available to her: Alistair and Tamlen. Which presented a difficulty. Morrigan could hardly stomach the thought of lying with the failed templar, yet Ashara most certainly would not agree to a request for her to lie with Tamlen.

The witch frowned, deep in thought. It was crucial that Ashara agree; she was the leader, and could convince either Tamlen or Alistair to lie with her, no matter their personal feelings. But, how should she go about convincing the Dalish woman? Would it be best to tell her the truth? Perhaps, but only part. A lie was best hidden amongst a partial truth. Morrigan could tell her that she needed to bear a child; she could even tell her a bit about what the child would be, but that was all she would say. Ashara and Kali had a long path set before them; Morrigan could not intervene and interrupt what was already predestined to happen. They would discover the whole truth when the moment was right, not before.

So, how should she go about convincing Ashara to agree to this important request? Morrigan tapped her chin thoughtfully. Perhaps she should claim that she could only lie with Alistair? Yes, that should work. She could explain how the ritual would save their lives, and claim that she needed Alistair to father the child. In truth, Morrigan was not sure if the mixture of a human and elf would affect the spell. So, it would be best for her to sleep with a human, just in case. She only had one chance, and she could not afford to ruin it.

Morrigan nodded to herself and poured the packets of herbs into one of the small bowls, grinding them into a fine powder with her pestle. Surely, if Morrigan asked to lie with Alistair, Ashara would agree to the request, especially if Morrigan presented the argument that this child she needed to bear would reclaim some of history's lost magic. She hesitated, wondering about Kira's reaction to such a thing. Well, that was not her problem. Alistair could either choose to tell her or not; the important thing was to get Ashara to convince him.

Once the herbs were ground into powder, Morrigan set the bowl aside and uncorked the bottles of oil with a smug smile. By now, Mother will have realized that Morrigan was no longer following the path they had agreed upon. She imagined Flemeth's fury and her smile widened. She was not fool enough to believe that Mother would simply give up her plans, but it was quite a refreshing change to be a few steps ahead of the dance.

She poured the oils into the second bowl and gently swished it around, until everything was mixed. Carefully, she tipped the contents of the bowl into the second, slowly pouring the oil mixture over the powder of herbs. Then, she peeled the glove off of her right hand, lifted the knife in her left, and cut a thin line down her right wrist. She held her wrist over the bowl, so that her blood would mix with the contents. A few drops of blood fell into the bowl, and as the liquid sizzled, Morrigan held both hands over the bowl, whispering ancient words that few understood, and sending some of her own energy into the mixture.

When everything was complete, she pressed a finger over her cut until the bleeding stopped. Then, she placed her glove back over her hand so that no one would see the cut on her wrist. She reached into her pack and pulled out a large, clear bottle. Careful not to spill a drop, she slowly poured the mixture into the bottle and set the cork on tightly, ensuring that it would not spill.

Her task complete, Morrigan straightened up and looked at the small bits of sky, visible through the canopy of trees. "You know what must be done," she whispered to the wind. Perhaps he would hear her words. But if not, it made no difference. The path had already been set. Where it ended, no one could say, but at least she knew the journey. "You know why this child must be conceived. Ashara, though unknowingly, has taken her first steps. Soon, it will be my turn."

She received no reply to her words, but it seemed as though the warm wind began to pick up, as if to cheer for her. Smiling, confident in what she must do, Morrigan carefully set the jar in her pack, gathered up the rest of her things, and walked back to the camp.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Vunin'lath - literally means: Day of Love; used for Mating Day<br>Sylaise - Goddess of the Forest; she taught the elves how to use fire, how to heal with herbs and magic, and fashion clothing to cover themselves  
>Mythal - Goddess of the Moon, and the mother of the Creators; a goddess of protection<br>Elgar'nan - God of the Sun, and father of the Creators; a god of vengeance  
><em>

_**A/N:** I really do need to thank Kira again, for her help on the Kali/Zev part. I'm still working on my "intimate scenes", and she was a huge help! Also, thanks to Suilven for her suggestions on Ashara's pregnancy, and for never minding when I harass her with questions :D  
><em>

_The lovely and talented Reyavie (known as dayofautumn on Deviant Art) recently drew a gorgeous picture of Ashara! You can find it here: http: /dayofautumn. deviantart. com/art/ warden-commander-dalish-style-302741054  
>While you're there, I really encourage you to check out some of her other work. Her elves are beautiful!<br>_

_Thanks to everyone reading and requesting alerts. An extra thanks to everyone who reviewed! Oh, and to the anonymous reviewer who made the comment about the Dalish language: Since I can't message you, I thought I'd just leave a note here. I don't mind if you use some of my Dalish words for your Warden. Actually, it really makes me thrilled at the thought that someone else would want to use them! I'd kind of like credit for the ones I created (mostly b/c I work really hard at trying to make up words that sound decent), but since I don't know who you are I guess it's up to you. XD  
><em>


	37. A Sweet Escape

_I owe a lot of thanks to Kira Tamarion, more so than usual, for everything she did with this chapter. Not only did she patiently fix up all of my mistakes, but she also gave me some brilliant advice and suggestions._

* * *

><p><strong>A Sweet Escape<strong>

It had been three weeks since they left Denerim. Three weeks of slow, rough travel, and Ashara felt more and more miserable with each passing day. She was into her eighth month now, and was starting to forget the last time she had been comfortable. The baby pressed against her ribcage with such force that Ashara often had trouble catching her breath, or rolled around so much that Ashara could actually see her stomach moving. It was as beautiful to see as it was difficult to deal with.

The cart came to a halt and Ashara leaned against it, taking a moment to catch her breath before anyone noticed. If Tamlen saw her struggling to catch her breath, he'd try to force her to sit on the cart. But, as her stomach grew bigger Ashara found it easier to walk than ride. Besides, the walking helped to keep her body strong; something she needed to do before the child arrived.

Kira stood at the front of the group; Ashara couldn't see her, but she heard her words clearly. "I don't think we can get the horses past this section of the forest, Ashara. The roots here are too thick."

Ashara nodded and took a deep breath. She steadied herself and walked–or rather, waddled–to the front of the group. Sure enough, a mess of roots and brush blocked the path.

Tamlen hopped down from his position in one of the trees, where he had been keeping an eye out for trouble. "I can see signs of the Dalish. By now, I assume they know we're here."

Ashara hid her sense of relief. It was starting to get late; there had been some speculation that they wouldn't reach Redcliffe Castle until after midnight. She didn't relish the thought of traveling all night, but could hardly delay their journey just because she was feeling tired. If they encountered the Dalish, it would give her an excuse to agree to make camp for the night.

Kira stepped away as Ashara studied the thick roots poking through the surface of the earth. By now, everyone had gotten used to Ashara's Dalish magic; she used it often to help clear a path through the forest. It was an unspoken rule that whenever Ashara performed ancient magic left over from _Arlathan_, the humans in her group would subtly look away. Though Ashara had grown to trust them and no longer minded if they watched her–she trusted that they would not try to steal her people's magic–it was a sign of respect for them to turn away. Ashara appreciated that.

She looked down at the blocked path and held her hands out, tracing them through the air over the large roots and brush. She closed her eyes and sent some of her own energy into the ground, an offering of sorts. This was how Keepers guided their Clan through the forest. In exchange for her energy, which helped the plants and trees to grow and flourish, the trees and brush would agree to move, making it easy for her and her companions to get through the path.

Ashara never watched nature move; it was better to keep her eyes closed so that she could focus on her task. But Tamlen said it was like the wings of a hummingbird. You couldn't actually see the roots or plants move; only a glimmer, a spark of light, and suddenly the path was clear.

She felt the ground subtly shift beneath her feet, and knew that her offer had been accepted. She clapped her hands together, sending a silent prayer of thanks to the forest for agreeing to her request, and turned back to her companions. "It's done."

Kira turned around with a smile. "Wonderful! The sooner we get underway, the sooner we reach Redcliffe."

Since Ashara had begun to grow tired in her pregnancy, Kira had started to fill the role of leader. Ashara wasn't thrilled at the idea of having her responsibilities taken away from her, but at least Kira was competent enough to do a fine job. Grudgingly, Ashara would admit that it was actually kind of nice to have someone she trusted take the lead. Besides, Kira had a sweet temper and a sunny disposition that Ashara lacked; she easily managed to convince the others to follow her decisions.

For about an hour or so, the group continued on through the forest without much trouble. When the sun began to set, Kira and Ashara debated on whether or not they should try to press forward and reach Redcliffe Castle. If they kept going at their current pace, they would reach the castle around midnight. Kali ventured the opinion that they should set up camp and travel in the morning, but before anything could be decided, an elven woman suddenly stepped out from the shadows of the forest.

She had a scowl on her face and an arrow pointed directly at Kira; immediately, the Orlesian Warden reached for her sword and shield, while the others grabbed their own weapons. But then, the elven woman's eyes widened, and she relaxed her grip on her bow. "You... you are the Grey Wardens?"

Ashara took a step forward, leaning her hand on one of the horses' necks. She saw that this woman was Dalish, though one that she didn't recognize. She must be part of the Clans gathering around Redcliffe Castle. "_Andaran atish'an, lethallan. Emma Ashara Mahariel, las'vhen arla Sabrae elv'lin._"

The Dalish woman visibly relaxed; she smiled and slipped her bow over her shoulder. "_Aneth ara, lethallan_. The Keepers told us that you and your companions might travel through the forest. I am Esyae, of the Lasane Clan."

"The Lasane Clan?" Kira asked. She glanced back at Ashara. "That is a different Clan from the two we encountered in the Brecilian Forest, yes?" Ashara nodded, and Kira turned back to Esyae. "It seems that the Dalish have already begun to gather. How many Clans have joined?"

Esyae's pleasant smile never wavered as she studied the Orlesian Warden. "So far it is only my Clan with the Sabrae Clan," she nodded politely towards Ashara, "and the Ainuae Clan. We expect more to come, but my Clan was close when the call went out." She gestured deeper into the forest. "Our Clans are not far from here. If you like, I can take you to them; I am sure the Keepers are eager to speak with you."

Ashara nodded, hiding her sense of relief. "We would be grateful, _lethallan_."

Esyae kept up a constant stream of chatter as she led the group further into the forest. She was a sweet girl, seemingly excited about the chance to fight against the Blight with the rest of the _Elvhenan_. She remarked at how strange it was to be camped near a _shemlen_ castle, but Keeper Lanaya had enticed the Clans into action by explaining how this was their chance to prove to the _shemlen_ world what the Dalish could do.

Kali came up to walk beside Ashara, her face flushed with excitement. "The Dalish are really excited about fighting against the Blight with us?"

Esyae nodded. "At first, most of us were worried at the thought of using our weapons to fight side-by-side with humans. We were afraid they might try to steal our precious ironbark, or find a way to trap us. But Keeper Lanaya told us of how you saved her Clan from the werewolves. She said that long ago the _Elvhenan _had made a promise to the Grey Wardens, and we must keep that promise or lose our Dalish honor. As the word was passed around the camp, most of the hunters began to grow excited at the thought of proving our skill to the _shemlen_."

She inclined her head to Ashara. "We also discovered that one of our very own was leading the Grey Wardens." Her smile widened. "You have done much for our people, _lethallan_. It is encouraging to think that one of our Firsts is the leader of such a respected group."

Ashara lowered her head to veil the leap of pride in her eyes. "I am grateful for the chance to bring honor to the _Elvhenan_."

She saw Kali glance curiously at her and stifled the urge to laugh. Among her companions, Ashara was certainly not known for her modesty. But, Esyae was part of the People. The Clans considered it impolite to brag about one's position of honor. If complimented, a proper Dalish turned aside the praise, and Ashara had an image to maintain in front of the _Elvhenan_, after all.

After about a half hour of walking, they finally reached the Dalish camp. As soon as they entered, it was immediately obvious to them all that the _Elvhenan _were preparing for war. Ashara could hear Master Ilen arguing with Master Varathorn about the best way to heat ironbark, while Dalish hunters sat around the fire, crafting arrows and bragging about their skill to one another. Women sat around their own small fires, mending leather armor while the _halla _caretakers brushed the beautiful white deer until their fur gleamed silver.

As the group made their way through the Dalish camp, Esyae paused and turned to Ashara. "You and your companions are free to set up camp on the east side." She gestured. "I assume that you will wish to speak with the Keepers first, though."

"There is no need to drag everyone through the camp," Ashara remarked. She looked at Kira. "Tamlen, Kali, Zevran, and I will go speak with the Keepers. You and the rest of the group can go set up camp."

Kira grinned, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. "And perhaps this time, we can keep poor Aric and Oghren from being accosted by elven children who wish to admire their beards."

Aric grunted. "Wasn't funny then, isn't funny now."

"I disagree, my friend," Kira replied sweetly.

"I can take you to the area," Esyae said politely. "Follow me, and I'll help you set up camp." She led the group off to the edge of the camp, while Ashara and the others walked towards the center.

Traditionally, Keepers always set up their _aravels_ in the very center of the camp, no matter where the Dalish were. Not only did it provide the opportunity for protection–the Clan was honor bound to lay down their lives to protect the Keeper–but it was also the perfect spot for others to find them. A Keeper must always be available to members of the Clan, day or night.

As they walked, Kali glanced around at the large Dalish camp, her green eyes wide. "Wow; there are a _lot _of Dalish here!" She watched four _da'len_ scamper around the camp, kicking up dirt while adults ordered them to calm down. "These are only three Clans? How many Clans are in Ferelden?"

"Each Clan has about thirty members or so," Tamlen explained. "I think there are about five Clans in Ferelden."

"I must say, the Dalish in Antiva are much more violent than the Dalish here in Ferelden," Zevran remarked thoughtfully, watching a group of young hunters practice their archery skills. "They are as likely to shoot you as they are to look at you."

"We've only ever met the Antivan Dalish once, during the _Arlathvhen_." Tamlen shifted his bow to his other shoulder. "I don't remember much about them, except that they got really angry when Fenarel poured pepper all over their food." He chuckled at the memory. "I thought they were going to skin him alive."

Ashara grinned. "I remember that. Fenarel had to hide behind Keeper Marethari; it was only her intervention that kept them from killing him."

Kali shook her head. "I think Shianni would have fit right in here."

They walked through the camp, with the Dalish shouting greetings along the way, and soon reached the center fire. Keeper Marethari sat at it with the new Keeper of the Ainuae Clan, Lanaya, and an older man that Ashara vaguely recognized.

Marethari stood up as she saw them approach and smiled warmly at Ashara. "The hunters told us you had arrived; welcome home, _da'len_." She looked at Tamlen. "You as well, _lethallin. _As always, you and your companions are welcome among the _Elvhenan_. You are free to stay as long as you wish."

Ashara ran a hand over her stomach, where the child was kicking up a storm. "I am afraid we are only here for one night, Keeper. We must get to Redcliffe Castle."

Marethari nodded. "Then sit by the fire, and enjoy your time here." She gestured for them all to sit with the elegant grace she always managed to summon, and then indicated the elderly man sitting next to Keeper Lanaya. "Allow me to introduce Rhys, Keeper of the Lasane Clan."

Ashara looked at the elderly man. She vaguely remembered him from the _Arlathvhen_, but had not gotten the chance to speak with him. At the last gathering, she had been too young to participate in most of the activities. He looked as ancient as an oak tree, far older than Marethari even, rooted to the earth by years of harsh living. The lines on his face suggested a cold demeanor, but his dark green eyes were kind.

"_Andaran atish'an, Shalas'vhen _Rhys," Ashara said respectfully.

Rhys inclined his head politely. "_Aneth ara, lethallan_. We have heard much of your doings." His ageless eyes took in the four elves sitting around the fire. "In all of my long years, I would not have expected that two of our own would have not only joined such an order as the Grey Wardens, but command the respect of the human world as well."

"We had help," Ashara reminded him. "Tamlen and I could not have done any of this without the aid of our companions."

"I understand." Rhys looked at Kali and Zevran, studying them as if preparing for a portrait. "You two are of the _Elvhen_, yet you live among the humans. Tell me, do you find it strange to be among the People, where you are treated as equals?"

Ashara ran a hand over her stomach and remained silent. She knew that this was a test; Rhys wanted to take a moment to judge their personalities, to decide if they were worthy of trust.

Zevran laughed, as if the question was truly funny. "I assure you, it is no more strange than living with the Crows. They treat elves and humans the same. That is to say, they treat us all badly, but at least we are considered equals."

Rhys didn't seem to quite know how to respond to that, so he turned to Kali. The little rogue flushed under his gaze, but leaned forward eagerly, her green eyes alight. "I think it's very strange! The Dalish live so differently from the city elves, and you remember so much more than we do!" Her smile was endearingly earnest. "If we manage to defeat the Blight, I want to bring stories of _Arlathan_ to the elves in the city. Most of them have no idea of our history, but I think that they have a right to know where we come from."

There was a moment of silence, and then a bright smile broke out on Rhys' features, making him look years younger. He glanced at Marethari. "You were quite correct in your description of her." He turned back to Kali. "You are a charming girl, _da'len_. Do not let that light go out of your heart; you will have need of it."

The little rogue frowned. "What does that mean?"

Rhys shrugged, as if the matter was unimportant. "It is for you to decide, _da'len. _If it means something, then remember my words and carry them with you. If it means nothing, it means nothing. Forget it."

Ashara, who was only too used to the confusing way the older Keepers sometimes spoke, decided to change the topic. Kali would never get a straight answer out of Rhys. "Have the hunters been scouting for darkspawn?"

Keeper Lanaya glanced nervously at Marethari and Rhys before speaking. It seemed that, although she was now a Keeper, of the same status as the rest of the Keepers, she was a bit hesitant to venture her own opinion. But, she would grow out of that. She had a lot of wisdom to offer, even though she was young. "Our hunters have been scouting daily. They've reported seeing a gathering of darkspawn far south, on the edges of the Korcari Wilds. It seems that the darkspawn are moving north, but they are doing so at a very slow pace."

Marethari nodded. "The Archdemon has not yet risen and without it, the darkspawn do not know where to go or how to proceed. I should think that as long as the Archdemon remains hidden, we have been granted the grace of time."

"For now," Rhys said with a frown. "Eventually, the Archdemon will rise and we will be faced with the Blight." He looked at Ashara. "Have you a plan?"

"Two of our companions are Orlesian Grey Wardens with much experience," Ashara replied. "They've given us information about the Blights, and ideas on how we should proceed. For the moment, our plan is to travel to Haven in search of a cure for Arl Eamon, the human who is in charge of Redcliffe Castle. One he awakens, Alistair assures us that he can stop this pointless _shemlen _civil war." She shifted, as the child in her womb began hiccuping and kicking. "With the civil war over, we will have armies from the _Elvhenan_, the mages of the Circle Tower, the _Durgen'len_, and the humans."

Tamlen nodded. "Aric says that once our army is completely gathered, we will be able to attack the main bulk of the darkspawn horde. If we manage to break through it, the Archdemon will be forced to show itself. The plan is to draw it out and attack it on a ground of our own choosing."

Rhys rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A fine plan, though it is all dependent on the hope that the Archdemon remain hidden for a time."

Ashara shrugged. "What else can we do? If the Archdemon were to show itself too soon, we will be forced to deal with it early. That is something that we are all aware of, but we can't always choose the battlefield."

Marethari nodded. "Wise words, _da'len_. At most, let us say that we have only a few weeks to prepare."

Rhys frowned. "If that is enough time to convince the others to uphold their honor."

Ashara caught the look that passed between the Keepers. "What's wrong? Are the rest of the _Elvhenan _not coming?"

Marethari spread her hands. "We do not know, _lethallan_. The call was sent out to the Clans of Ferelden, but only the Lasane Clan has shown."

"I am sure that Keeper Soora will be bringing her Clan," Rhys said firmly. "She was the first of us to feel the stirrings of the darkspawn, and argued that we must stand and fight the Blight. She will drag her Clan through the whole of Ferelden if she has to. But, as for Keeper Zephan..." Rhys trailed off and shook his head. "I do not know what he will be thinking. It is possible that he will take his Clan out of Ferelden."

Ashara scowled, angry at the thought. "If one of the Clans decides to turn tail and run, they will never be forgiven! They are not worthy to call themselves the _Elvhenan_!"

Marethari smiled sadly. "Now is not the time to be angry, _da'len_. We have enough to prepare for, without adding to our worries. The _Elvhenan _will provide what army we can; we shall be ready to aid you against the Blight."

But Ashara's anger did not recede; she knew of Keeper Zephan. He was the Keeper of the Clan that her mother had belonged to. He was the one who refused to allow Ashara's mother and father to bond. She had always disliked the man, and this did nothing to help. She was disgusted at the thought that he would hide away, refusing to help his people. It was shameful.

Tamlen, who probably knew what Ashara was thinking, scooted closer to her and slipped an arm around her waist, offering silent support.

Marethari looked at the two of them and folded her hands in her lap. "I am sure that you are eager to eat and rest," she said quietly, tactfully changing the topic. She looked at Ashara. "You said you will be leaving in the morning?"

"Yes, Keeper."

"Then for tonight, you must enjoy yourselves. We will speak later."

Tamlen helped Ashara to her feet and guided her off towards their companions. Ashara said nothing, and allowed herself to be pulled away. Though she got to spend the evening with her people, though she saw all of her friends and loved ones, her dark thoughts about the past continued to follow her like a shadow, unable to be escaped.

oOo

Morning sunlight filtered through the windows of the large hall of Redcliffe Castle, setting the very air alight. Kali walked down the hall with her hands on her hips, exasperated as she looked around. Barely a full day since they arrived at Redcliffe Castle, and already she was lost! Lady Isolde had told her how to get to the map room, but for the life of her Kali couldn't figure out where in the heck she was supposed to go. How did anyone find _anything _in such a giant place?

Frowning, she looked down the row of doors on either side of the hallway, and tossed around the idea of opening them each in turn. If she opened all of the doors, eventually she'd find the right room, wouldn't she? See, this is exactly why she should have gotten up from breakfast with Ashara, Leliana, and Kira. But no, Kali had decided that she wanted to stay and finish eating.

Though, in her defense, it had been a long time since she had had a fresh meal, and that warm bread was delicious.

She spotted a lone guard standing near one of the doors further down the hall, and considered the idea of asking him where she should go. But, she didn't want to seem like an ignorant peasant girl.

In the end, it didn't matter; the guard glanced her way as she approached him. Well, she _thought _he was glancing at her, but since she shouldn't see his face beneath his helmet, it was kind of hard to tell. For all she knew he was looking at the wall behind her. "Is there something you needed, my lady?" he asked politely.

Kali glanced over her shoulder, thinking that someone else was in the hall with her, but then reminded herself that the guard was actually speaking to her. Her group had arrived at Redcliffe yesterday morning, and from the first moment she set foot in the castle, everyone kept calling her "my lady". The guards, the servants, even the mages from the Circle Tower were all very polite and formal to her and the others. No one would call her Kali. It was really weird.

"Um, I'm trying to find the map room. At least, I think that's what Lady Isolde called it? Some of my friends are in there." She glanced down the hallway. "But, I forgot which room it was, and I think I'm lost."

"The room is at the end of the hall, my lady. The last door on your left."

Kali frowned and put her hands on her hips, staring up at the guard. "You now, you don't have to call me that. I'm Kali, an elf from Denerim. Why does everyone insist on being so polite to me?" She thought for a moment. "I suppose it's better than being called a knife-ear, but I'm starting to feel weird about it."

The guard shifted. "You are a Grey Warden, my lady, worthy of the title. Not only that, but you helped kill that demon that plagued the castle, and saved Redcliffe Village." He hesitated. "My wife and son live in the village; your actions helped to save my family."

"Oh." Well, she certainly hadn't thought of that. Everyone was polite to her, as a way to say thank you? Whatever happened to just walking up to someone and saying "thank you"? She'd really prefer that, to everyone acting like she was a human noble or something. "Well, um, we were glad to help. It's what Grey Wardens do. But that doesn't mean that you can't call me Kali."

The guard straightened up. "As I said, the room is down the hall, my lady."

Kali fought the urge to throw up her hands. She recognized the tone of dismissal well enough. She could sense that he was starting to grow uncomfortable, and was hoping that she would leave. Well, there wasn't much she could really do, so she settled for thanking him and continuing on down the hall.

She found the room soon enough, and opened the door. It was quite unlike anything she had ever seen before. Large maps were pinned to the walls; one of them was so big that it covered an entire wall just by itself! She couldn't recognize most of the maps, but she did see that the largest one was a map of Ferelden. The others were most likely maps of other countries, Orlais, probably. Wasn't Lady Isolde an Orlesian?

There were strange instruments shuffled into the corners of the room–Kali had no idea what they were, or what they were used for–and shelves piled high with hundreds of books. In the very center of the room was a large table covered with papers and scrolls. Ashara, Kira, and Leliana were crowded on one side of the table, each peering down at a large piece of paper.

"If this map is accurate, we should be able to reach Haven within a week or so, no?" Kira said, tracing her finger over the paper. "It seems to be an easy enough journey. I assume we could follow the Imperial Highway around Lake Calenhad, and then track into the mountains."

"Yes, but it is the mountainside that will be the most difficult to travel through," Leliana said thoughtfully.

Ashara rested her hands on the table and bowed her head. Kali thought that she looked like she was trying to force herself to breath calmly. "This map worries me," the Dalish woman said, her voice rough. "Something seems off."

Kali walked up to the table, curious as to what they were talking about. "Is something wrong?"

The three women looked up at her. "We are not sure," Kira said slowly. "We have poured over a dozen different maps, but this is the only one that actually has Haven marked on it."

Kali leaned over the table and peered at the map. It looked very old, and had a bunch of different marks on it, though she didn't really understand what they were supposed to symbolize. "Is that a problem?"

"It means that we must trust that this map is accurate," Leliana explained. "If it is not, we will have wasted a lot of time on nothing." She tapped a finger against her chin. "However, I am of the opinion that we accept it as authentic. If Andraste's Ashes are truly buried somewhere in Haven, it makes sense that the village will have kept it a well-guarded secret." Her eyes were practically sparkling. "We _must _take this chance! Imagine how much hope Andraste's Ashes could bring to the faithful!"

Kira made a soft reply, but Kali wasn't listening to either of them; she was too busy watching Ashara. The Dalish woman was leaning over the table, her breath coming in harsh gasps. One hand was on her stomach, and her eyes were squeezed shut, as if she was in a lot of pain.

At once, Kali was by her side, holding her arm to try and keep her steady. "Ashara? Is something wrong?"

Leliana whipped around; she took one look at Ashara and started beaming while she got on the Dalish woman's other side to support her. "Is it the child? Is it coming early?"

"I... I don't know..." Ashara managed to gasp out. "There's a... pain... like... squeezing..." she trailed off and scrunched up her face, as if another wave of pain was washing over her. Kali saw her bite her lip while her face turned red.

Kira immediately ran to the door and threw it open, and in one long breath managed to shout for Tamlen, Wynne, and for someone to go outside the castle and find Marethari. Servants flew down the hallway to prepare a room while Leliana and Kali half supported, half carried Ashara out of the map room and down the hall. The whole way, Ashara held on so tightly to Kali's hand that Kali was sure her fingers were going to snap off.

Once in the room, Ashara was carefully set on a large bed; she sat with her legs up and her back against the headboard, leaning forward. Wynne rushed in with the energy of a woman half her age, followed closely by Morrigan. The Circle mage sent servants running for hot water and fresh wool, while Morrigan knelt down beside Ashara and whispered words that Kali couldn't hear.

Tamlen burst into the room, shouting at everyone to tell him what was going on. Ashara lifted her head and tried to say something to him, but couldn't seem to get the words out. She gasped and moaned, and reached out a hand to Kali, who knelt down on the opposite side of the bed from Morrigan. Tamlen began cursing at Wynne for not doing something; he was causing so much chaos and terrifying the servants so badly that Wynne finally thumped him on the head and threatened to bar him from the room if he didn't calm down. Shocked into silence, Tamlen retreated into a corner of the room.

Someone pressed a warm, damp cloth into Kali's hand; she pressed it lightly against Ashara's forehead, trying to think of something to say that would soothe her, but she couldn't seem to do anything more than push Ashara's damp hair away from her face and whisper at how brave she was.

Finally, after what felt like hours–during which Ashara alternated between screaming, and sweating–Marethari calmly walked into the room. Her presence alone seemed to fill the entire room with security and hope. She walked towards the bed and smiled down pleasantly at Ashara. "Well, _da'len_, it is time for your child to be greeted?"

Ashara's sharp nails dug into the soft flesh of Kali's hand. "It's too early, Keeper!" She clenched her teeth and groaned as a fresh wave of pain washed over her. Kali was almost positive that she was going to have scars on her hand, but she knew why Ashara was so frantic: she was only a little past eight months. Weren't children supposed to be born around nine months? That meant that her child was coming early, which wasn't good, was it?

But Marethari's calm expression never wavered. "Everything will be fine, _da'len_. There is no need for you to worry." She looked around the room and saw Tamlen sulking in the corner; for the first time, she frowned. "What are you doing here? This is women's business, no place for a man." She waved a hand towards Leliana. "Guide him from here." Tamlen straightened up, looking ready to explode, but Marethari stared him down. "We will bring news of your child when she is delivered, _da'len_. I'll not have you disrupt our work."

Grudgingly, clearly ready to curse everyone in the room, Tamlen allowed Leliana to pull him away. But before he went out, he shot a dark look at Kali. The meaning of it was clear: _You will tell me if something happens!_

Once he was gone, Marethari turned her gaze to those left in the room: Kali, Morrigan, Wynne, Kira, and the servants. The Keeper smiled. "It is going to be a long day. Let us settle in and prepare."

The Keeper was right. It _was _a long day.

Ashara was in labor until well past midnight; her screams echoed through the room like a shrieking ghost, sending chills through Kali's spine. She had never thought that giving birth was so painful! Ashara was a strong woman; Kali had never before seen her show pain, not even when she got hit by that arrow when Zevran attacked them. To see her now, her small body shaking while sweat poured down her face, her teeth clenched while she tried not to scream, frightened Kali.

While Marethari and Kira prepared a mixture of herbs in a bowl and set it on fire, and Kali and Morrigan continued to hold Ashara's hands, Wynne kept up a constant stream of soothing energy flowing to the Dalish woman, to try and keep her calm. It didn't seem to work very well, in Kali's opinion, but Wynne explained that until Ashara gave birth, she had to be very careful about the type of magic she used.

Finally, when Kali could see the full moon glittering outside of the large window of the room, Marethari felt Ashara's stomach and announced that it was time. She instructed Kali and Morrigan to lift Ashara carefully from the bed. Kira got behind Ashara to help, and the three women carried her to the center of the room. Marethari showed Kali and Morrigan how to get on each side of Ashara and support her, forming a sort of throne for Ashara to rest against so that she could deliver her child.

Kali knelt on one knee, with her other leg offering support, and wound her arms around the Dalish woman's body, trying to hold her steady. Between her and Morrigan, they were able to keep her supported, but Kali could feel Ashara trembling. She made a mental note to _never _get pregnant.

Wynne stood behind Ashara and swept her hair up to the top of her head, trying to cool the back of her neck while Marethari knelt down in front of her. Kali couldn't see what it was that the Keeper was doing, but Ashara soon let out a fresh scream.

"You are doing well, _da'len_. Keep breathing; it is almost over."

Kali could feel Ashara's body heaving and convulsing. It felt like the screaming went on for hours and hours; Kali's legs were beginning to ache, but she refused to relax. Finally, Ashara tensed up and jerked forward, her eyes almost bulging out of her skull. There was a rush of liquid, and Kali could hear a baby screaming. She never would have guessed that the sound of a baby crying was something to be admired, but at that moment the screaming of the baby was the most beautiful sound in the whole world.

Marethari sat back on her heels and quickly wrapped the baby up in a fresh piece of linen. "It is a girl, _da'len_."

Ashara was almost in hysterics; her body slumped forward, and she was laughing and crying, all at once. Marethari handed the baby to Wynne, and went over to the burning pile of herbs. She put out the fire and looked at Kali and Morrigan. "Bring her here."

Kali and Morrigan were forced to practically carry Ashara over, while Marethari poured the herbs on a stone plate and set the plate on the ground. "She must stand over the smoke; it will help to cleanse her."

After everything was finished, Ashara was put back into bed while Kira cleaned her off as best as she could and one of the servants went running for Tamlen. Wynne came to the bed, and Ashara got to hold her daughter for the first time. Seeing the look on Ashara's face as she stared down at the little baby, screaming in her arms, Kali had the thought that maybe childbirth wasn't so terrible after all.

Wanting to really see the new baby, Kali stood by the bed and peered down at the squealing infant and frowned. She didn't want to say anything–for fear of making Ashara panic–but it looked to her as if the baby was tiny, even by elven standards.

Marethari seemed to be thinking along the same lines; she stood by the foot of the bed and watched Ashara calmly for a moment, before speaking quietly. "We must keep watch over your child, _da'len_."

Immediately, Ashara jerked her head, fear in her eyes. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Your daughter is small. She seems healthy enough, but we must take care to ensure that she nurses well and gains weight."

Ashara held the baby to her chest, as if afraid she would lose her. "What if she doesn't?"

Marethari shook her head. "There is no need to think like that. I am here," she inclined her head to Wynne, "as is your friend. We will keep your daughter healthy."

The Circle mage nodded. "It is not uncommon for children to be born early, but with that comes certain risks. Your Keeper is simply explaining why we must keep a watchful eye on your daughter." She smiled. "There is no reason to think that she will not grow fine."

Morrigan, who had never once left Ashara's side during the whole day, leaned forward and brushed Ashara's bangs away from her head. "I am sure that your daughter will be fine. More than sure; I can promise." Kali glanced at the witch curiously; it wasn't like her to be so nice to someone. Morrigan didn't look at her, but her words seemed to settle Ashara a bit.

Kira clapped her hands together, beaming as she watched Ashara and her child. "So, Ashara, what will you call her?"

Ashara looked up at her with an exhausted smile. "Anyu. Her name is Anyu."

Everyone moved out of the way as Tamlen burst into the room and rushed to the bed, and Kali found herself standing next to Marethari. "Anyu," the Keeper remarked thoughtfully. "It is a good name."

"Does it mean something?" Kali asked, brushing away her bangs from her face. It seemed she was sweating almost as bad as Ashara was.

Marethari turned her wise gaze to Kali. "It means 'unexpected blessing'."

Kali turned to look at the new parents. Ashara and Tamlen had their heads bent together and seemed quite oblivious to the world around them as they admired their baby. They lifted up her feet to exclaim over her little toes, traced their fingers over her pointed ears and kissed the soft patch of pure white hair on top of her head.

Unexpected blessing. Kali liked the sound of that. This little baby girl, Anyu, was born during a Blight, when the country was torn apart by a civil war and darkspawn threatened to destroy the world. Her parents were Grey Wardens, who never should have been able to have children in the first place. Unexpected blessing.

Kali smiled. That's exactly what Anyu was.

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><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Andaran atish'an - formal greeting<br>Emma Ashara Mahariel, las'vhen arla Sabrae elv'lin - I am Ashara Mahariel, First of the Sabrae Clan  
>Aneth ara - informal greeting<br>Andaran atish'an Shalas'vhen Rhys - Greetings, Keeper Rhys  
>Durgen'len - dwarves<br>lethallan/lethallin - friend, kinsman  
>da'len - childchildren  
>Arlathvhen - meeting of the Dalish Clans that occurs every ten years<br>_

_**A/N:** Yay! Ashara gives birth! I've been so excited for this chapter since I first started writing about her pregnancy! Kira was an immense help with that section. And don't worry, we'll start getting back on track with the Blight in the next chapter.  
><em>

_About the section with the Dalish: in the game, on the night before the Blight you can talk to a few dwarves who are complaining that one of the houses refuses to send their men to help fight. Well, it seems to me that you'd also encounter problems like that with the Dalish. Most of them might agree to uphold their promise to aid the Grey Wardens, but I get the impression that there would be at least one Clan that would refuse to fight with humans.  
><em>

_Sorry for the delay in updates. I've gotten so far behind in everything (I owe a lot of you reviews). Hopefully I'll get caught up this week  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, reading, and requesting alerts!_


	38. Million Miles from Home Im Walking Ahead

_Lots of thanks to Kira Tamarion for her patient work with this long chapter and for her endless support and encouragement :D_

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><p><strong>Million Miles from Home I'm Walking Ahead<strong>

For three full days, Ashara knew nothing but the joy of motherhood. She kept to her room, practically locked away from the rest of the world, oblivious to everything around her except for the little baby in her arms. She spent hours upon hours simply gazing at Anyu, admiring her little features, and marveling at the tiny details of her face. She believed that there was no more perfect baby in the world.

Wynne said that all babies had blue eyes when they were born, but to Ashara it looked as though Anyu was a faery child, a little snow angel. Her skin was pale, paler even than Ashara's, and her little tuft of hair was as white as fresh snow blanketing a forest floor. She seemed the very image of purity and innocence, and Ashara was speechless at the thought that this perfect little baby was hers.

When Anyu cried, she cried real tears, scrunching up her face and bawling with the fury of the Creators. When she slept, she lolled in Ashara's arms like a man passed out drunk. Ashara studied every inch of her daughter, drinking in the sight of Anyu as if she couldn't get her fill.

During the three days of this joyful bliss, Tamlen rarely left their side. He held Anyu as many times as Ashara could stand to be parted from her, whispering words in her little ear that Ashara couldn't hear. He brought plates piled high with food and made sure Ashara ate enough, hovering over her like a worried parent, always asking if she had had enough to eat.

Kali spent the time fluttering in and out of the room, bubbling with excitement as she admired Anyu and constantly chattered about all of the things she wanted to give her. With the aid of some of the servants, she invaded Isolde's sewing room and gathered so much material that it took three people to carry. She brought it back to Ashara's room, whereupon she began to stitch one beautiful outfit after another. Lady Isolde, she reported to an amused Ashara, could hardly protest since Kali was making clothing for the baby. But, the servants had gleefully told her that Isolde, frustrated with how overrun her castle had become–what with the Grey Wardens and the army–had shut herself away in her rooms, sobbing about how no one had manners anymore.

For those three days, Ashara was happier than she had ever been. She had her daughter in her arms, Tamlen and Kali by her side, and Keeper Marethari always nearby to offer a suggestion or word of advice.

Then, she crashed back to reality.

The Blight was still a threat to Ferelden, the civil war was still raging, and they still needed to find a cure for Arl Eamon. Ashara had been graced with three days to spend with her daughter, to forget about everything else, but now it was time to resume her duty. She mentioned to Keeper Marethari how difficult it was to pull herself away from Anyu and worried over who would watch her while she was gone; the Keeper broached the idea of bringing in a new mother to help keep watch over Anyu, and also to nurse her.

"You have a Blight to defeat, _da'len_," Marethari said in her calm way. "You cannot do that if you are nursing your child. You cannot focus on your task if you are worrying about who will watch her."

Ashara was stunned by the suggestion and fought the urge to collapse into tears. She shouldn't nurse her own daughter? What kind of mother would that make her? Tamlen tried to comfort her, to tell her that it didn't matter if she nursed their child or not but Ashara pushed him away, telling him that he didn't understand.

With a hidden smile, Marethari informed her that it was the best way to do her duty and ensure that her child was healthy. During the three days that Ashara had nursed Anyu, they could all see that the baby was gaining weight. A new nursing mother would not halt Anyu's growth and would be available to feed her at any time of the day, something Ashara could not give her if she was to resume her duties against the Blight.

Much as Ashara was reluctant to admit it, she knew that the Keeper was right. The army was gathering outside the castle and Ashara had a lot to do. She had to help provide them with plenty of weapons and armor; she had to check that the army was fully prepared. Kira might have helped Ashara lead their group across Ferelden, but to the army Ashara was the one in charge. She had to speak with her soldiers and review plans with them. She had to answer their questions and calm their fears.

When Marethari saw that Ashara had relented, she left for the Dalish camp and soon brought back one of the new mothers from Keeper Lanaya's Clan, a slight woman by the name of Tiatha. The Dalish mother brought her nursing son, Seith, and seemed nervous to be inside such a large castle.

Ashara was not inclined to like this woman–as far as she was concerned, Tiatha was usurping her role as a mother–but when she saw how sweetly the young woman held Anyu, her anger faded.

"She is a beautiful girl, _lethallan_," Tiatha said warmly, holding Anyu to her chest. "I am sure that you and Tamlen are very proud."

Ashara sat on the edge of her bed and watched the woman hold her daughter, ignoring the pang of envy. "We are." She hesitated. "_Ma serannas_ for your help. I... it was not something that I wanted, but the Keeper helped me to see that it was the best choice."

Tiatha looked up at her with sympathy. "It is understandable, _lethallan_. But, you know that we of the _Elvhenan_ are always willing to help one another. And you were First of your Clan; now you are a Grey Warden destined to save us from the Blight. It is an honor for me to help you in your time of need."

Somewhat mollified by the kind words, Ashara stood up and walked over to the little baby bed, where Tiatha's son Seith was sleeping soundly. A few months older than Anyu, he was an adorable boy with dark hair and skin the deep tones of the earth. A true child of Sylaise. "Your son is beautiful. Is his father with the rest of the Clans?"

The young mother nodded, her face softening as she looked at her baby. "He is one of our Clan's hunters. He is proud that I am to aid you, but I think he is worried about me sleeping in a _shemlen_ castle."

"If it would make you both feel better, he is welcomed to stay with you during the evenings." Ashara grinned mischievously, knowing how upset Isolde got with each new addition to her castle. "I know that he must stay with the hunters during the day but at night, at least, you can be together."

A bright smile broke out over Tiatha's dark features. "I should like that, _lethallan_. _Ma serannas._"

Feeling far more secure that Anyu was in good hands, Ashara left her daughter for the first time since she had been born. She keenly felt the emptiness in her arms that longed to hold her baby, but she held her head high and firmly reminded herself that she had a job to do. Besides, Anyu was still in her room; it wasn't like they were being separated by distance. Ashara thought her hormones were making her act ridiculous.

She walked down the stairs and outside to the training yard, behind the castle, where a large group of men and women were training for the upcoming battle. She saw the Redcliffe soldiers practicing with their swords and mauls, mages working on their various spells, and dwarven men and women swinging giant axes and swords while they boasted to one another.

Ashara stood at the top of the stairs that led down to the yard and took a moment to study the scene in front of her. It was encouraging to see the army training hard and, as she scanned the area, she spotted her companions spread out amongst the troops. Wynne watched over the group of young mages, occasionally stopping to offer a suggestion or thought, while Tamlen, Zevran, and Leliana stood off to the side shooting arrows at practice targets. Morrigan, as was her habit, stood in the shadows away from everyone else with Kali's mabari, Drake, at her side; Sten sat cross-legged in the sunlight, glaring at anyone who had the temerity to speak with him. Alistair and Kira spared against one another, and Ashara spotted Oghren and Aric amidst the mass of dwarven soldiers.

Seeing everyone working together, preparing for a difficult battle, was truly inspiring. For the first time, Ashara had the thought that they might actually manage to succeed.

She noticed Kali standing a bit away from everyone else and walked over to the little rogue, who beamed when she saw her. "Ashara! You're up!" Her smile slipped a little. "Is Anyu okay?"

"Yes; she's with Tiatha."

"Oh. Is that the wet nurse Marethari went to find for her?"

Ashara tilted her head. "A wet nurse?"

Kali nodded. "It's a term used for a woman who nurses a baby for the mother. Most of the higher ranking noblewomen don't nurse their own children, so they hire a wet nurse to feed their baby for them."

"How strange." Ashara couldn't imagine why a mother would willingly hand over her child to another woman like that. "Why would a woman not want to nurse her own child?"

The little rogue shrugged. "Noblewomen are weird like that." She smiled. "Anyway, was there something that you needed?"

Ashara leaned against the wall of the castle and watched the mixture of humans, dwarves, and elves scurrying about as they prepared for battle. "I need to get everyone together; we have to get someone else to lead our group to Haven to try and find the cure for Eamon. I doubt I can travel such a long distance right now, and Keeper Marethari said that I should stay here in the castle until I'm fully healed." Privately, she admitted to herself that she couldn't stand the thought of leaving Anyu anyway.

Kali nodded. "Okay. I'll go tell everyone that we need to meet. Why don't we meet in the dining hall; that table's big enough for all of us."

Half an hour later all of her companions assembled in the dining hall. Kira sent some of the human servants for wine and fruit, and Tamlen sat down next to Ashara with a worried look on his face.

"Are you sure you're strong enough to be up?" he asked with concern.

Ashara smiled and patted his hand. "I'm fine, _emma'lath_. I had my days with Anyu; now it's time to get back to our duty." The servants came back with bowls filled with fruits and ewers of wine. Ashara still felt a little uncomfortable at having someone serve her like some _shemlen_ queen, but she had finally come to the realization that there was nothing she could do about it. The elven servants hadn't listened to her suggestions that they seek out the Dalish, and even the human servants seemed content with their lives.

So, she settled for ignoring them, and instead, looked out over the table. "It's time to decide who is going to travel to Haven. Brother Genitivi's research seems to indicate that Andraste's Ashes are somewhere around there, and we need them to cure Arl Eamon. He's the only one who can help us confront Loghain. With Loghain out of the picture we can recruit the Royal Army."

Wynne folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. "Ashara, may I venture the opinion that it is not wise for you to travel right now? You have only just given birth; you need to rest and allow your body to grow strong at a slow pace. If you push yourself too much you risk harming yourself."

Ashara nodded. "Keeper Marethari said the same thing. That's why I will be staying here in Redcliffe Castle; someone else will have to lead a group to Haven." She took care to keep her voice light. Though she really didn't want to leave–she couldn't stand the thought of being away from Anyu–she really didn't like admitting weakness to those who depended on her.

Tamlen leaned towards her and put a hand on the small of her back, out of view from everyone else. She could tell that he knew what she was thinking. "I'll stay with you, _vulpasha_."

Ashara smiled down at him before turning her mind back to the task at hand. She knew who she would ask to lead. Who else did she trust to keep a firm hold over everyone and guide them to safety? "Kira, I think that you should be the one to lead the others to Haven"

The Orlesian Warden's eyes widened slightly. "I should lead? You trust me this much?"

"You were a fine guide when I was in my final months with Anyu, and you have a firm grasp of how to lead. I know that you'll keep everyone safe."

Kira flushed with pleasure. "That is... kind of you, Ashara." She took a sip of her wine, and then her face grew serious. "I would make the suggestion that I only take a few people with me."

"Why do you say that?" Alistair asked.

"If the map that we found is accurate, it should take us roughly a week of travel to reach Haven. I believe that we can move faster if I only have a few people with me." She looked around the table. "Haven is the last place that we must visit, and if the Ashes are truly there we can wake Arl Eamon and confront Loghain. If they are not, then we agreed we would proceed without the king's army." She folded her hands in her lap. "Either way, we are fast approaching the time when the Archdemon will show itself. I believe we need to move swiftly."

Ashara thought about her words for a moment and conceded the point. "I agree. With a smaller group, you should be able to travel at a faster pace. But, that leaves the question of who to take with you?"

"I'll go," Alistair said firmly.

"As will I," Leliana said.

Ashara nodded and looked around at her companions. "Wynne, I think you should go with them as well, in case they need a healer."

The Circle mage nodded. "I agree."

Aric set his cup down firmly on the table. "I'm going too. Ye'll need another warrior or two."

"Then count me in," Oghren said cheerfully. "Better'n staying here with all those nuglickers from Orzammar."

Ashara smiled. "It looks like you have your group, Kira. The rest of us will stay here and help train the soldiers, and prepare to battle the Archdemon."

Kira nodded. "We will leave at first light." She looked around at those going with her. "Get your things prepared tonight, and be sure to get plenty of rest. I do not want to delay leaving; the sooner we reach Haven, the sooner we can confront Loghain and prepare for battle."

The meeting over, everyone got up from the table and went off in different directions to various tasks. Ashara decided that she would go check on Anyu; she had already been apart from her for over an hour. She and Tamlen walked through the castle, towards the room they shared.

Tiatha sat on their bed next to her sleeping son, sewing a small tunic; she looked up and smiled when they entered. "_Aneth ara_. Your daughter is fine; she's sleeping right now."

Ashara noticed Marethari standing over Anyu's little bed with a smile on her face. The Keeper was always happy to be around children; she had never bonded, and had never been blessed with children of her own, so she had a habit of treating all children as warmly as if they were her own. "Anyu is sleeping soundly; she is growing well, _da'len_."

Ashara smiled at the Keeper's words and looked at Tiatha. "If you'd like, you can go to the Dalish camp and see your mate. I can watch Seith for you. I think that my tasks are done for the moment."

Tiatha set her sewing down and stood up from the bed, careful not to disturb her son. "_Ma serannas, lethallan_. I believe I must speak with one of the _shemlen_ servants. He told me that a room had been prepared for me." She shook her head in wonder. "Imagine! I have a room with an actual bed, and a bed for Seith, in a _shemlen_ castle!"

"Have the _shemlen_ been treating you with respect?" Ashara asked. Though everyone was polite to her and her companions, she wasn't sure how they'd react to another of the Dalish. If any of the humans in the castle were rude to her or treated her badly, she was going to have some words with them.

Tiatha nodded, looking somewhat surprised. "Actually, they have. Everyone has been very nice to me; it is unlike anything I expected." She lowered her voice. "That one _shemlen_ woman, the one with the strange accent and really high voice, was a bit rude at first, but the human I spoke with told me that she is stressed about all of the people in her castle."

"That's Isolde," Tamlen said, flopping down on the stuffed couch. He seemed to like the flamboyant comforts of the castle far more than Ashara did. "She's rude to everyone, but I kind of like the idea of making her mad." He grinned.

Tiatha giggled at his words. "I got the impression that no one really likes her." She walked over to the bed and gently picked Seith up. He kicked his feet and gurgled in annoyance at being woken up, but when Tiatha settled him against her hip he calmed down. "I would like to go to the Dalish camp and speak with Roth. I want to tell him that he is free to come to the castle during the evenings; it will make him feel better about me staying here."

Tamlen stood up from the couch. "I'll ask Kali and Zevran to go with you. The Dalish camp isn't very far from the village, but you shouldn't be walking there by yourself, especially not with your son. Come on."

He tossed a smile at Ashara and led Tiatha from the room. Once they were gone, Ashara went over to the little baby bed and peered down at her daughter. Anyu was sleeping deeply, her face relaxed. Ashara felt a wave of tenderness, unlike anything she had ever known, wash over her. This little girl was _hers_, a perfect baby made from her own body. It was humbling.

Marethari stood next to Ashara and smiled down at the baby. "Anyu the Survivor," she said quietly, almost to herself.

Ashara's head snapped up. "Why do you call her that?"

The Keeper shrugged carelessly, as if her words were unimportant. But, despite Marethari's calm, Ashara felt a tendril of fear settle into her stomach. She hated it when the Keeper made comments like that. It was an infuriating habit most of them had; they lived for so long and dedicated themselves to the realms of the unseen for so many years that occasionally a Keeper made prophetic comments that even they did not often understand.

However, when the words dealt with her precious daughter, Ashara wasn't about to let the matter go. "You called her Anyu the Survivor. Why?"

Marethari shook her head slowly. "I have no answer for you, _da'len_." She studied Ashara's face calmly, as if they were back with the Clan, preparing for daily lessons. "You are no longer an untrained child, Ashara. You are a Grey Warden, and now a mother. You know that the future is often unclear, that we are only granted muddled visions of what might be."

Ashara looked down at her sleeping daughter. "Yes, but..."

"None of that. You have too much to do without worrying about the distant future."

With a sigh, Ashara reluctantly let the matter go. She knew it was pointless to argue. Marethari might be a calm and sweet woman, but sometimes her refusal to give straight answers could rival _Asha'belannar's _stubbornness. The Keeper smiled, as if she knew Ashara's thoughts. "Now, on to lighter topics. I have a gift for you."

She walked over to a corner of the room, where for the first time Ashara noticed a beautifully carved silver staff. Marethari picked the staff up and held it out to her. "Master Ilen made this for you, to celebrate the birth of your daughter."

Ashara took the beautiful staff, her eyes widening as she admired Master Ilen's work. It was crafted from precious ironbark, with markings that symbolized protection etched around its slender body. Beautiful black feathers, symbols of _Elgar'nan_, were tied to its tip with strips of dark leather, and Ashara felt her magic channel through the staff as she held it. She smiled; it had been a long time since she had carried a staff. After her father's wooden one had been broken in the Deep Roads, she had begun to carry daggers. But, perhaps she could find a way to use both daggers _and_ the staff.

"I... _ma serannas_. Tell Master Ilen that I am grateful."

"No matter where you go, you are of the _Elvhenan. _We will always do what we can to aid you in your tasks."

The door opened and Tamlen walked in. "Kali and Zevran agreed to take Tiatha back to the Dalish camp. She's going to speak with her mate and bring him back to the castle for the night." He paused and looked at the two women. "Did I interrupt something?"

Keeper Marethari smiled. "Not at all." She inclined her head to Ashara. "I am going to rest for the evening. Tomorrow I shall spend the day with the _Elvhenan_. If you have need of me, send word."

The Keeper left the room and Tamlen walked over to the baby bed, peering down at their daughter. "She is so beautiful, _vulpasha_." Ashara could hear the note of pride and awe in his voice. "We have a daughter. A beautiful girl to carry on our heritage."

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close; Ashara rested her head on his shoulder. The two of them stood there for a time in silence, each content to admire their daughter.

"Do you think she'll be a mage?" he asked curiously.

Ashara looked up at him. "Do you want her to be a mage?" Dalishchildren usually didn't begin to show signs of magic until around three to four years of age, but most parents were thrilled to have a mage child. Magic was rare among the _Elvhenan_, and a mage child brought prestige to their parents and the Clan.

Tamlen shrugged, as if he didn't care one way or the other. "Whatever she is will be perfect for me. We'll teach her everything we know. I'm going to show her how to hunt, magic or not, and you can give her the knowledge of herbs."

Ashara smiled, envisioning all of the skills their daughter would have. "Yes. And Kali is already planning to teach her how to sew. Anyu will never want for anything."

Tamlen chuckled. "She's going to be spoiled."

Ashara waved a hand dismissively. "Of course. But no child could deserve it more."

"True. She'll always know how precious she is, and that her parents created her out of love." As he spoke, his hands slid up Ashara's arms to cup her elbows; he leaned down and kissed her lightly on her forehead.

Ashara smiled in contentment and rested her head against his chest, relaxing in his arms. She would raise her daughter to know that her parents loved her. Anyu would never have to endure the loss of her mother and father. Ashara closed her eyes. She would never repeat the steps of her own mother; she would never abandon her daughter.

oOo

That night, after the evening meal was cleared and everyone had retired, when the castle slowly drifted towards silence and the stars glittered in the sky, Kira and Aric sat in the dining hall, sharing a few glasses of ale as they reflected on the tasks ahead of them. It had been a long time since they were afforded the luxury of privacy, and both were grateful to take advantage of it.

Aric poured them both another glass of the delicious spiced ale from Orlais and took a long drink, sighing deeply. Kira didn't need to ask him what was wrong; the two of them had been friends for five years, since she had first joined the Grey Wardens at the young age of eighteen. She understood his moods, and knew that he was thinking about the battle with the Archdemon, and what the Wardens must do.

"It seems strange that Duncan did not explain much about the Grey Wardens to his new recruits," she remarked thoughtfully, taking a small sip of her ale. Though the two of them had been drinking for over an hour, neither of them were feeling much of the affects. They were accustomed to long drinking bouts with their fellow Wardens of Orlais; both had a high tolerance for alcohol.

"What did you expect?" the dwarf asked with a resigned sigh. "They were recruited right before a battle. Duncan didn't have time to tell 'em."

"Yes, but why not tell Alistair? He became a Warden six months before the others underwent their Joining. We all felt the stirrings of a Blight long before it happened; even in Orlais we felt it. Why did Duncan not mention anything to him then?"

"Who knows?" Aric's thick black beard twitched, expressing his agitation. "But, it's our job to tell 'em now. They need to know."

Kira set her cup down firmly on the table. "What we _need_ are our brothers and sisters! Why does Mikhail not send more Wardens?" She brushed back her hair impatiently. "These last few months I have been trying to understand his reasons, but I have come to the conclusion that he is truly content to abandon Ferelden." She could hear pain creep into her voice. "I thought that we were better than this, Aric. I thought that it did not matter if we were Orlesian or Ferelden; I truly believed that we would all uphold our honor and fight against the threat of the Blight."

Aric, ten years her senior in both years and experience with the Wardens, reached over and patted her hand. "The way of the world, lassie. Yer a close relative of the Empress; you know how politics are."

With a resigned sigh, Kira slumped back in her chair in a most unladylike fashion. "I know, but we have been helping these people for six months now. I do not know what I expected when we first crossed the border, but I did not expect this. Without the aid of our brothers and sisters, the Ferelden Wardens have been forced to travel the country and beg for help from strangers, when they should have already had it from their fellow Wardens!" Her frown deepened. "If we manage to end this Blight, I fear that tensions between Orlais and Ferelden will only grow. Ferelden will always remember that Orlais abandoned them in their time of need, and I cannot say that I will blame them."

The dwarf took a deep drink of his ale and studied her over his glass. "What this country needs is a ruling family that can bring peace."

Despite her foul mood, Kira couldn't help but smile. "When did you become interested in politics, Aric? I always thought you were above such petty things."

"Doesn't mean I don't pay attention. Even I see that the humans are twitchy without a king. Just like Orzammar; Ferelden needs a strong king to keep things steady."

"Yes, but unless Alistair decides to claim his right to the throne–and we all know that he despises the thought–I do not see who else would have the strength to bring peace. Queen Anora is the daughter of Loghain; no doubt she shares her father's hatred of Orlais."

"If the pike twirler's the only one with a strong claim, I don't see that he has much of a choice."

Kira folded her hands in her lap, looking down at them so that Aric would not see the worry on her face. It was a thought that constantly plagued her. Alistair was the only person alive in Thedas with Theirin blood in his veins; Ferelden _needed_ him. He believed that he would be a horrible king, but she knew that he was wrong. He was a good man, strong in his convictions and firm in his beliefs. He would be as a soothing balm to these hurting people.

But, to be the king of Ferelden would close him off from her forever.

She knew it was a selfish thought; to prefer her own desires over that of an entire country. What a woman she was! But, she couldn't help it. She had grown to care for him deeply over the past months. The thought of being separated from him caused an ache in her chest.

Aric cleared his throat loudly; Kira glanced up and saw that he had been watching her. "As I said: Ferelden needs a ruling family to fix the problems with Orlais."

"I heard you the first time," she retorted, somewhat irritably. "I have no doubt that Alistair would do his best to ease the tensions between Ferelden and Orlais. But, quite frankly, it is not our decision. I know that Ashara is already thinking of Alistair as king; she is already planning the various ways he can help to bridge the gap between humans and elves. But, unless Arl Eamon decides to put Alistair forward, I do not see what say we have in the matter." Her words were clipped; though she had never spoken with Eamon, she vehemently hated the way he had raised Alistair, as the spare to be brought forward only when deemed useful.

Aric poured himself another glass. "Of course Eamon will put Alistair forward as king, if he wakes up. Who else is there? But, even though the lad would make a good king, I don't see him fixing everything on his own."

Kira studied the dwarf suspiciously. "What are you implying, Aric?"

"I thought it was obvious. You sure yer not drunk? I'm saying that you rule with him."

She stared at him for a moment, before dissolving into laughter. "How much have you had to drink, my friend? You are drunk, yes?"

"I hold my ale better'n you, lassie."

"Then, why would you ever suggest such a thing? Rule with Alistair? That would mean to marry him! I do not... I have not even..." She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "I can just imagine the look on his face were I to propose such a thing! Besides the fact that Alistair and I are not even _close_ to the point of marriage, I doubt Ferelden would want an Orlesian as their queen."

"Makes sense, if you think about it." Aric began to list the reasons off on his chubby fingers. "You and pike twirler are already batting eyes at each other; it's obvious to anyone with half a brain that yer sweet one each other. Yer a high noble, with a family that has a good claim to the Orlesian throne after the Empress. You know how to run a kingdom; you could give him the support he'd need." He shrugged. "If Ashara supports the idea, it could be done."

Kira stared at her friend as if he had suddenly sprouted two head. "No... that is not... I don't..." She was at a complete loss for words, something that rarely happened. Instead, she decided to fall back onto an argument that couldn't be refuted. "I can hardly demand to be made queen, Aric. Besides, we do not even know for sure if Alistair will take the throne."

"Didn't say you had to decide now." Aric shrugged. The two fell into a short silence, before he cleared his throat again. "Have we gotten a letter from that elf? The one looking for Riordan?"

Kira sat back in her chair, grateful for the change of topic. But, her relief was short lived. "No, we have not." Her voice lowered sadly. "I think we have to assume that he has been captured. I do not know what Loghain would do to him, but I think we can be sure that he is in danger."

Aric shook his head. "Loghain's inviting trouble, capturing an Orlesian Grey Warden."

"I get the impression that he is beyond thought or reason at this point." Kira lowered her eyes sadly. She had heard plenty of tales of Loghain, the great hero of River Dane, the best friend to King Maric. For such a proud man to have fallen so far was a terrible thing. "If he can abandon his king on the field, and then sell elves into slavery, I think we can assume that he will not stop at harming a Grey Warden."

She closed her eyes against the worry she felt for their friend. Riordan was a good man, an honorable Grey Warden who always looked out for his brothers and sisters. He had taken her under his wing when she was first recruited, took the time to show her the ropes, and ensured that she adjusted well. He was a like a big brother.

But, she knew that they could not break off their task to go searching for him. They had to prepare for the Blight. Riordan would be extremely disappointed if she turned her back on her task and try to find him. He would willingly go to his death if it served the greater good of defeating the Blight.

Aric sighed, his face reflecting some of Kira's own thoughts. "Nothing we can do but keep fighting the Blight. If we find Riordan, we find him; if we don't... well, then there was nothing we could do."

Kira nodded, and stood up from the table. "Come, let us retire. Morning is not far away, and we both must rest before we leave for Haven."

Slowly, weighed down by a whirlwind of different thoughts and worries, the two friends left the room.

oOo

A week after the others left for Haven, Kali and Ashara found themselves outside in the training yard with the army. Kali dove quickly to the side, ducking down to avoid the blow of the staff and swung her foot around, coming within inches of Ashara's exposed side. She stopped before her foot actually made contact, and the Dalish woman straightened up with a tired smile.

"Well done. I guess I've gotten out of shape these past few months."

Beaming, proud that she had progressed so much that she was actually able to get the upper hand on Ashara, Kali slid her daggers into the belt around her waist. "Well, it's only been a week and a half since you had Anyu. Wynne said that most women have a hard time getting their energy back after childbirth."

Ashara bounced the staff up and down in her hands, feeling its weight and trying to get used to carrying a staff again. "Dalish women are different from human women."

"How so?"

"We're always on the move; the whole Clan can't afford to stay in one spot for weeks after a woman gives birth. That can be dangerous, depending on where the Clan is, so most Dalish women are given two weeks to rest. Then, although she doesn't do much physical labor, she's still expected to move on with the Clan and help with everyday tasks."

Kali leaned against the wall of the castle and wiped her damp bangs away from her forehead. It was a hot day, and both women had been outside in the sun for hours. Ashara wanted to use both her daggers and staff as weapons, and wished to get comfortable with switching between the two, and Kali had agreed to help her.

There wasn't much for them to do while they waited for Kira, Alistair, and the others to return from their trip to Haven. It had been about a week since they left, and most days Ashara and Kali found their way down to the training yard. The soldiers seemed to enjoy seeing the Wardens outside, training beside them, and were relieved to hear Ashara assure them that they had a plan to defeat the Archdemon.

Kali found it strange to see so many different races all gathered in one place, acting like a giant town. Humans and dwarves stood side-by-side and practiced with their swords, while elven mages stood by to heal their wounds. Even the templars, sent by the Tower to watch the mages, relaxed their strict attitude. The sounds of laughter, bawdy jokes, and general companionship rang through the large area.

The mages teased the dwarves about their lack of magical ability while the dwarves in turn swore that a puny mage didn't have the strength to handle their weapons. Templars offered up prayers to any who asked for them, and the humans were cheerful and comfortable with the elves. None of the soldiers seemed to be nervous around the mages, either.

It almost seemed like the boundaries between the races and cultures didn't exist; that everyone was equal. Kali delighted in it; she felt like she was helping to bridge the gap between the different races. When the Blight was over, if all of these people would remember how they felt now, maybe it would be the start of something better.

Ashara swung her staff through the air. She had said that she wanted to practice using it for both magical and physical attacks, but to Kali it looked as though she already knew what she was doing. She brought the staff to the ground as if slamming it down on an enemy, and channeled magic through the ironbark, sending a streak of lightning from the tip.

She stood up with a smile, clearly pleased, and then slid Kali a sly glance. "You know, there _was _something I've been meaning to ask you about, _ashalan_."

Kali knew that look; Ashara was going to tease her about something. She tried to keep her face light, but she had a feeling that by the end of this conversation she'd end up embarrassed. "Yes?"

"Well, I heard a little rumor on the wind." Ashara finger's danced lightly across her staff as her voice carried the barest hint of teasing. "Tamlen told me that a certain assassin has begun sharing your room at night."

Just like that, Kali felt like her ears were about to burst into flame. She buried her face in her hands to hide her embarrassment. "Um... y-yes... that's true..."

She heard Ashara's ripple of laughter. "Well? Tell me about it!"

Kali peeked through her fingers, feeling a rush of shame as well as nervousness. "You're not really asking me to gossip about that, are you?"

"Why not?" She paused. "There's nothing for you to be ashamed of."

"Maybe not to you," Kali said in a rush, lowering her hands. So far she had kept quiet about the situation. At first, she had been too nervous to tell Ashara anything more than that she and Zevran had finally _really_ been together. Then, she kept quiet because of all the excitement over Anyu's birth. But the reality was that Kali had spent the last few weeks in a jumbled mess of confusion, torn between a sense of elation and absolute terror. "But for me, this is a big deal!"

Ashara lowered her staff and tossed Kali a curious look. "I know it's a big deal. Losing your virginity is always a big step, especially when the relationship becomes more permanent, but Zevran is a good man. It's obvious to all of us that he cares deeply for you. One might even say that he loves you."

"I know he does," Kali mumbled. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

She glanced around the training yard. There were at least fifty people around, all of them practicing their skills, shouting out suggestions or laughing at stupid jokes. It was too crowded. She grabbed Ashara's wrist and pulled her off to a quiet area in the corner, where they could be partially hidden by a small tree.

Ashara seemed to grow concerned. "Kali, what's wrong? Has Zevran done something to upset you?"

"No! It's not that. He is so... he's always..." The thought of Zevran made her blush and look away. "It's not him. It's just... in the Alienage, women are supposed to stay virgins until they get married."

"So?"

"So, I'm not a virgin anymore. And I'm not married."

Ashara looked genuinely confused. "But, you're not in the Alienage anymore. You're a Grey Warden."

"I know." Kali ran a hand through her damp hair. How could she expect Ashara to understand it when _she_ could barely figure out how she was feeling? "And I know that I don't want to go back to the Alienage. I want to stay a Grey Warden, and stay with you and everyone else. But... I don't know..." She lowered her eyes. "What would my father say if he found out that I was sharing a room with a man I wasn't married to? Do you know what women like that are called? Even Shianni would be upset!"

"Ah, I see now." Ashara set her staff against the tree and put both hands on Kali's shoulder. "You're afraid that what you're doing is wrong." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Well, it's not."

Kali lifted her head. "I know that the Dalish believe differently, but in the Alienage we're taught that a woman should be pure when she gets married. If she's not, her betrothed is within his rights to leave her." She grimaced. "Since I'm a Warden, I don't think Father can arrange a marriage for me again... so I guess that's not a problem for me. I just..." With a sigh, she threw up her hands. "I don't know why this is bothering me, but it is!"

Ashara let go of Kali and crossed her arms. "Kali, there is no reason at all for you to feel ashamed because you love a man and want to show him that you love him."

"But..."

"Giving yourself to someone out of love is the most powerful gift you can ever give."

Kali shook her head. "I don't know how true that is. Zevran has been with a lot of people," she mumbled quietly. She really didn't like to think about all the people Zevran had been with before he met her. She accepted it about him; there was no way she could change the past, and she trusted him and his feelings for her. But, that didn't mean she liked to think about it. "And I don't think he cared that much about most of them."

Ashara waved the comment aside. "There is a world of difference between what he did with strangers, and what the two of you share." Kali bit her bottom lip and thought to protest, but Ashara continued before she got the chance. "When you're with Zevran, what do you feel?"

Heat crept up Kali's face, as she thought about their moments together. "Um, I feel like the whole world stops. Like, there's no Blight, no civil war, nothing but me and him."

"Exactly. There is no reason to feel ashamed of that; the heart wants what it wants. You and Zevran love each other." She shrugged. "If your people find a reason to judge that, then instead of feeling ashamed of yourself, you should feel pity for them. Pity that they haven't experienced such a love for themselves. If they did, they would understand."

Ashara's words brought a small smile to Kali's face. She always had a way of settling Kali's fears, putting her at ease. Suddenly, the day seemed a lot brighter.

Ashara grinned and put an arm around Kali's shoulders. "Come on, let's go give Tiatha a break. Anyu hasn't seen her aunt in over a day now."

Kali giggled, feeling better than she had in weeks.

oOo

Kira held her cloak tighter around her shoulders and tried to avoid stepping in the patches of mud. Though it was nearing the end of summer when the air was still warm, as soon as they reached the base of the Frostback Mountains, the temperature took a distinct plunge, near freezing, and Kira did _not_ enjoy being cold.

Alistair noticed her miserable expression and laughed. "You know, it's not _that_ cold. At least, it's warmer than the last time we were in the Frostback Mountains."

Kira giggled, trying to avoid staring at the way his lips turned up when he smiled. Ever since Aric had put that ridiculous idea in her head, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. She didn't care a bit about being queen, but it had given her the idea that if Alistair _did_ become king, she might not risk losing him.

But, she was afraid to raise the topic with him. Although they had kissed, and although Alistair had gotten comfortable enough to pull her into an embrace or lightly kiss her forehead, so far he hadn't yet invited her to stay the night with him. And Kira was too nervous to broach the subject; she didn't want him to think she was too forward, and risk scaring him off. Their relationship was hardly set in stone at this point.

Something about her face must have confused him, for he raised an eyebrow. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Well, yes. You have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth," she replied sweetly, and was rewarded by his ring of laughter.

"Forgive me for interrupting this playful exchange," Leliana said. Kira and Alistair looked ahead to see her, Wynne, Aric, and Oghren all staring at them. "But," the bard continued with an indulgent smile, "we can see Haven ahead." She pointed up the hill they were approaching where, sure enough, Kira could see a small village hidden amongst the mist.

"I suppose that the map was accurate, then," Kira said. She stared up at the village and felt a sudden shiver run down her spine.

Wynne brushed her hair away from her face, fidgeting as she always did when she got nervous. "Something is wrong here. I do not know what it is, but I can sense something strange."

"Then we had best be careful," Kira replied. She adjusted her cloak so that she had easy access to her sword, should she need it, and walked towards the village. It did not matter if something was wrong with this village. They _needed_ to find the Ashes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>lethallan - friendkinsman; used for females  
>Ma serannas - thank you<br>emma'lath - my love  
>da'len - childchildren  
>ashalan - sister<br>Aneth ara - informal greeting  
>Asha'belnnar - lit: Woman of Many Years; used for Flemeth<br>_

_**A/N:** I hope that the jump between times (going from three days after Anyu's birth to a week and a half) didn't confuse anyone, but it was time to get things moving again. I had spent too long on all the other stuff going on; it was past time to get back to the main storyline XD  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking. It means a lot!_


	39. Myth of Fingerprints

_Lots of thanks to Kira for being my fantastic beta goddess. She's such a huge help and her encouragement has really been inspiring. If you haven't read her work I highly recommend that you do so._

* * *

><p><strong>Myth of Fingerprints<strong>

Ashara sat at the small table in her room with Kali as the two women shared a jug of mulled wine and enjoyed a night of peace and quiet. Anyu was sound asleep in her bed, Tiatha was with her mate, and Tamlen had gone into the village with Zevran to see if they could find some new weapons. The two of them were planning to stay the night at the inn, so Ashara and Kali had decided to sit up late and talk about mundane things.

Ashara took a deep drink of the warm wine, enjoying the taste of something other than water for a change. The wine was delicious, with the barest hint of cinnamon and orange. Much as Ashara loathed to admit it, Isolde had a fine selection of wines, collected from all across Thedas. The woman was arrogant, irritating, and had the most annoying voice in the world, but she _did_ have fine taste when it came to wine.

Kali took a grape from the plate of fruits Ashara had gathered from the kitchens and popped it in her mouth. "When do you think Kira and the others will return?"

Ashara stole a glance at the baby bed, making sure that Anyu was still sleeping soundly. "Kira said that it should take them a little less than a week to reach Haven, so they should have arrived there a few days ago. Assuming that it might take them a few days to find the Ashes–if the Urn is actually there–and then another week to return, I'd guess that they should be back in about eight days or so."

The little rogue thought about this for a moment and leaned forward. "You know, all this talk about Andraste got me thinking and I... um... I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Do... do the Dalish worship Andraste? I mean, she helped to fight the Magisters of the Imperium and freed the elves from slavery so... do the Dalish revere her like the humans do?"

Ashara was unable to hide her smile; she loved it when Kali asked questions about Dalish traditions and customs. More than once she had noticed the little rogue mumbling a prayer to _Mythal_, and knew that she was drawn to her ancestry. It was only natural; after years of being subjugated by humans, learning only _shemlen_ history, of course she would seek out answers about her own people.

Ashara inclined her head. "We do acknowledge the sacrifice that Andraste gave. She was betrayed by her own husband and burned at the stake by the evil Magisters, but she endured all of this unflinchingly, because she was secure in the path that had been set out for her. She was a brave woman, and we are thankful to her for her role in freeing the _Elvhen_ from slavery. During the festival of _Era'din_, where we worship _Falon'Din_ and _Dirthamen_, we tell stories of those who have gone before. We often tell the story of the battle against the Imperium. It's not uncommon to leave an offering of thanks to Andraste for her sacrifice during the festival, but we don't worship her like the other Creators."

"Well, that brings me to another question." Kali bit her lip nervously, as if hesitant to continue. "Um, well, Andraste said that she was following the Maker. So, if you know that she was a real woman, and that she did so many amazing things, how come the Dalish don't acknowledge the Maker?" She seemed to think her words were offensive, for she sat up quickly. "I don't... I don't mean that you should... worship the Maker or anything... I was just... curious..."

Ashara wasn't in the least bit annoyed. She understood the question, and knew Kali well enough to know that the little rogue honestly _was_ curious. It was one of the traits she admired about her; if there was something that Kali didn't understand, she always asked questions. She never just assumed that she knew the answer.

"I understand, _ashalan_, and I'm not angry. I suppose it's a natural question." She thought for a moment before continuing. "Andraste did say that she heard the Maker; she did claim to have convinced him to return to this people and help them. But, who can say what really happened?" Ashara spread her hands. "Andraste did a lot of good, not the least of which was freeing our ancestors. At one point, you know, the _Elvhenan _did actually acknowledge the Maker as a god separate from our Creators. Our ancestors didn't worship him, but they did give him the respect due as a god."

Kali's eyes widened. "Really? I didn't know that!"

Ashara nodded. "It was before the Second Blight. But then the _Elvhen_ of the Dales and the Chantry began fighting, and the Chantry led an Exalted March against the Dales that nearly killed our entire race. After that, when the _Elvhenan_ fled and began wandering as the Dalish, they came to equate the Maker and the Chantry together. Both became bywords for evil and hatred."

The little rogue was enthralled; she looked as though she wanted to say something else, but before she got the chance they both heard a light knock on the door. Ashara exchanged a glance with Kali–she wasn't sure who would be coming to talk to her this late–and then stood up and opened the door.

On the threshold, looking somewhat anxious, stood Morrigan.

Ashara was more than a little surprised to see her, since the witch had made herself scarce during their time at Redcliffe. She didn't like being around so many people, and Ashara suspected that she often took on her raven form and flew off, seeking solace in the quiet of the forest around the castle.

"Morrigan? Uh... come in." Ashara held the door open and stepped back. "Was there something that you needed?"

The witch cautiously walked into the room, hesitating when she saw Kali sitting at the table. She spun around to face Ashara. "I... came to speak with you about a delicate matter."

"All right." Ashara gestured to the couch. "Whatever it is, you can speak freely in front of Kali."

Morrigan nodded and sat down on the couch, crossing her legs. She promptly uncrossed them and began smoothing down the straps of her strange pants. Ashara was alerted by the gestures; it was completely unlike Morrigan. Usually the Wilds witch held herself under rigid control but now she was fidgeting, almost as if she was nervous.

"Morrigan, what's wrong?" Ashara asked.

The witch straightened up in the couch, flattening her palms on the cushions and looking between Ashara and Kali. "I once told you that after you had birthed your daughter, I would tell you what it is I have kept hidden."

Ashara took a deep breath, to calm her mind and keep her face a mask of neutrality. This wasn't what she had expected. She sat at the table, next to Kali, and folded her hands in her lap. "You did."

Morrigan lifted her chin and looked at the two women. She was a silent for a moment, but then she set her shoulders defiantly, as if expecting an argument. "Once, you asked me who it was that Flemeth intended to possess, and I informed you that I did not know. That was untrue."

"So you _do _know who Flemeth wants to possess?" Kali asked, her eyes huge. "Who is it? We need to warn them!"

The witch stood up from the couch and walked over to Anyu's baby bed; she put a hand on the railing of the bed and peered down at the sleeping baby. Ashara was struck with a sudden urge to shove Morrigan away and stand over her daughter, like a frightened mother cat snatching her kittens to safety.

" 'Tis someone who has not even been born yet," the witch said softly, never taking her eyes off Anyu.

"Morrigan, just tell us what's going on," Ashara said impatiently, standing up from the table. She didn't like how the witch was looking at her daughter; she didn't like the tendril of fear that had settled in her stomach.

"You know that an Archdemon is one of the Old Gods; the gods of the Imperium," the witch said, turning around to face the two women. "You know that when it becomes tainted by the darkspawn, it attacks the world as an Archdemon. This is when a Blight occurs. But even though it is an Archdemon, it is still a god. No mortal, however strong, can kill a god."

Ashara frowned, thinking about the witch's words. What she said made sense; Ashara hadn't really thought about it before. Kali stood up from the table, looking confused. "I don't understand. Blights have been ended before, haven't they? If those Archdemons were Old Gods, then someone _did _kill them."

"That is... not an actual death." Morrigan began pacing around the room, frowning as if overrun by thoughts. "I do not know what your fellow Grey Wardens believe, but I do know that when a Grey Warden kills an Archdemon, their souls are merged together. It is the only way for the taint to be destroyed."

"Their souls are merged?" Ashara asked. In all of her years of studying the past, she had never before heard of such a thing. But, she could rationalize what would happen. "The Grey Warden wouldn't survive that."

"He does not. When a Grey Warden kills an Archdemon, the taint in their body draws the Archdemon's soul like a beacon. When they are merged together, the mortal soul absorbs the taint of the Archdemon. They are briefly joined, and then the mortal soul is destroyed."

"So... then, the person who kills the Archdemon... dies?" Kali's voice was a horrified whisper.

"Exactly," Morrigan replied. "The mortal is destroyed, taking the Old God's taint with it. The Old God is no longer an Archdemon; its soul is purified."

Ashara felt her hands go numb. "This is what Duncan meant when he said that only a Grey Warden could kill an Archdemon?"

"It would appear so. I gather that the Grey Wardens know that their taint is what allows them to kill an Archdemon, but they do not know exactly why, nor the reasons behind it. From what I have read, it appears that Grey Wardens believe they kill the Archdemon, but this is not true. With its soul cleansed of the taint, the Old God simply returns to the Void. Its body is destroyed, but its mind and soul remain intact."

Kali bit her bottom lip. "I don't... understand. How can it still survive if it doesn't have a body?"

Morrigan stopped her pacing to look at the little rogue. "It is a god. It does not live as you and I."

Kali shook her head; she still looked confused, but it appeared she was willing to let that point go. "So then... what happens if someone other than a Grey Warden kills the Archdemon?"

"The Archdemon's soul will seek out the nearest creature with the taint," Morrigan said. "That is to say, it will seek out a darkspawn, and will still remain an Archdemon. The Blight will continue."

Ashara felt as though she had been dunked into an icy stream; her whole body was cold, almost numb. She had always known that fighting the Blight wouldn't be easy; she had always been prepared for casualties, for the thought that she might not survive. But, to know that one of them must _intentionally_ sacrifice themselves? That was different; it took away any hope.

She looked down at the bed, where her beautiful little daughter slept deeply, unaware of the chaos around her. Was Ashara to die, before Anyu was old enough to even remember her mother's face? Was that the path that had been set out before them? Another generation of mother and daughter separated?

"Why didn't anyone tell us?" Kali asked quietly, her voice laced with sadness. "Why didn't Duncan say anything? Or Kira and Aric; why haven't they told us?"

"I don't know," Ashara whispered, unable to pull her eyes from Anyu's face.

"I do not know what their reasons are," Morrigan said, "but it brings me to the person that Flemeth wishes to possess." Ashara turned to look at the witch. "I have a way out, a way that does not lead to the death of a Grey Warden."

Ashara studied the Wilds witch carefully. She could feel the truth in her words, as palpable as warm sunlight energizing the skin. Morrigan may have lied to her in the past; she may have omitted facts and evaded the truth, but in this instance, whatever it was she wanted, she was being honest. Ashara wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice even, to mask her thoughts.

Morrigan crossed her arms and closed her eyes briefly. "What I ask is that you allow me, on the eve of battle, to lie with Alistair."

The silence that greeted her words was so sharp, Ashara could have heard a pin drop. She could have heard the spirits of the Beyond gasp.

Finally, Kali let out a low breath. "You want to sleep with Alistair? I thought you _hated_ him!"

Morrigan's eyes narrowed angrily. " 'Tis nothing to do with my personal feelings. What I need is a human Grey Warden, one that has not been tainted for long. Together, we shall conceive a child."

If her words before had been absurd, this was outright madness; Ashara almost started laughing. But, she saw by Morrigan's face that the witch was deadly serious and her mirth drained away. "Why in _Mythal's_ name would you possibly want to have Alistair's child?"

Morrigan pinched the bridge of her nose, possibly out of irritation. But really, what did she expect? After months of hounding Alistair, taunting the poor man until he was driven nearly half insane, she couldn't just pose a request like this without some questions. "I will perform a ritual–the Chantry would call it blood magic, but it is so much more than that–which will allow me to bear a child. When you or one of your fellow Wardens kills the Archdemon, the child in my womb will absorb the Old God's soul. The Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon will survive, and my child will inherit the soul." She looked between the two women. "This is what Flemeth intended when she sent me with you."

Ashara frowned. She was confused and didn't bother to hide it. "I thought you weren't following _Asha'belannar's _plan anymore."

"I am not, but that does not change the fact that this ritual is important."

"Why?" Kali asked. "Do you want a darkspawn baby?"

The witch tutted impatiently. "The child will not be a darkspawn. It will inherit the soul of an Old God and will grow into something entirely different from an Archdemon."

"Tell me why you want this child," Ashara said. She knew Morrigan well enough to know that the witch wasn't asking for this child simply out of the goodness of her heart. There was another reason; something that was hidden from her.

"All I shall say is that there are some things in this world worth preserving. You may take that how you wish."

Not for a moment did Ashara believe her. Morrigan wanted this child for a reason; Ashara wanted to shout in frustration, to demand that the witch tell her everything for once. She was getting sick of these confusing mind games. "Morrigan, you're asking for a lot of trust without giving much in return."

"I know."

Something about her voice caused Ashara to stop and look at her closely. She noticed a stiffness in the witch's shoulders, a stiffness that might have conveyed sadness or determination. Ashara had been taught to read body language; she could tell that whatever reason Morrigan had to want this child, she did not make the choice lightly. "What do you intend to do with the baby?" she finally asked.

"That, I cannot tell you." Morrigan looked away. "I am aware that this makes my case that much harder to believe, but you must trust me. This path has been set before us. None of us chose it, but we must endure."

Kali stepped around the table, looking somewhat uncertain. "You're not... I mean... if you have a child that has the soul of an Old God, you're not going to use it to... I don't know... try to get more power for yourself, are you?"

Morrigan glared at the little rogue. "I have no intention of using the child for such a pathetic purpose. It is my intention to take the child and disappear."

"But this is who your mother wants to possess, right?" Kali continued.

"Yes."

"So, aren't you putting yourself more at risk? You said you wanted Asha to attack Flemeth so that you would be safe; wouldn't it make more sense _not_ to have the child, so that Flemeth doesn't hunt you down and try to get it?"

Morrigan obviously didn't like this line of questioning; she stiffened. "Flemeth wants the child for her own selfish gains. What I want is to preserve an ancient magic that has almost been forgotten. That is worth risking Flemeth's wrath."

She turned to Ashara, who was trying to keep her thoughts from her face. "Does it truly matter? I offer you a way to save yourselves. You will not be forced to sacrifice yourself to slay the Archdemon. Ashara, you will have a greater chance of surviving, to keep your life safe so that you may live to protect your daughter."

Nothing Morrigan could say would have a greater impact on Ashara. She looked down at her daughter, sleeping soundly without any knowledge of the world being turned upside down. Perhaps this was why Duncan said Grey Wardens should not have family; Ashara could no longer just think about herself. She had to keep herself safe for Anyu's sake.

She would journey to the abyss and back; she would make deals with thousands of demons if it kept her with her daughter.

Plus, despite all that, there was another voice in her mind that urged her to agree. It was almost as if her gut instinct was telling her that she needed to accept Morrigan's offer. Keeper Marethari taught her to go with her feelings, though Ashara couldn't tell if her inner voice was truly her instincts, or just her desire to stay with Anyu.

Finally, she sighed. "You said that you needed to sleep with Alistair. Why him? Does he have something the other Wardens don't?" She refused to even consider the thought of letting Morrigan lie with Tamlen–petty as it was–but she wanted as much information about the ritual as possible.

"I need a human who has the taint, but has not been tainted long; Alistair fits that role."

"Asha, are you really considering this?" Kali exclaimed. "We don't know what this baby might be! What if it turns out to be more dangerous than the Archdemon?"

"I assure you, it will not," Morrigan said sharply.

"Kali," Ashara said quietly, "Morrigan is giving us a chance to end the Blight without the risk of sacrificing ourselves against the Archdemon. If we can keep ourselves alive, we can help our people. We can give the _Elvhen_ better lives; we can rebuild the Grey Wardens, and possibly even see Alistair as a good king to Ferelden. There is so much that we can do if we survive the Blight. Do you really want to throw that chance away?"

The little rogue hesitated, biting her bottom lip nervously as she considered her options. "I... I guess... that makes sense. If we die, we can't do anything to help our people."

"Even with Morrigan's ritual, we might die anyway," Ashara reminded her. "But, shouldn't we try to do everything we can to try and survive?"

Kali turned to the witch. "Can you guarantee that this baby won't grow into another Archdemon or something? Can you swear that we won't be hurting more people by letting this happen?"

Morrigan looked Kali straight in the eye. "I swear it."

Ashara watched the exchange, studying the witch closely. There was no twitch of the eye, no shifting or hesitancy, nothing at all to indicate that she might be lying. Ashara looked back down at her daughter and knew that, in all honesty, it didn't matter if Morrigan _was _lying. Ashara would have helped Fen'Harel himself if it kept her with Anyu.

She let out a deep breath. "Well, I suppose the next step is to try and convince Alistair to sleep with you."

Kali let out a snort of suppressed laughter. "That's probably going to be harder than actually fighting the Archdemon."

Morrigan looked immensely relieved. "I... thank you, Ashara." She shook herself and managed to resume her normal, haughty expression. "However, when you speak to Alistair I urge you to be convincing. You are in charge of the Wardens; you are the only one who can convince him, and it is crucial that he agree."

Ashara nodded. She had no idea what she was supposed to say to convince him to sleep with a woman he hated, but she would at least try. "I'll talk to him when he and the others return from Haven."

Morrigan nodded and walked towards the door. Before leaving she turned, and for a moment it looked as though she wanted to say something else, but she merely gave Ashara the ghost of a smile and left.

When she was gone, Kali turned to Ashara with a hesitant look. "Do... do you really think this is a good idea, Asha?"

Ashara put a shaky hand on Anyu's soft head; the baby stirred but didn't wake up. "I don't know," she admitted. "But, I feel that this is the right path to take."

"How can you tell?"

"I don't know. I just... I don't know."

oOo

In a million years, Kira would never in her life have guessed that she would have been relieved to see the sight of fresh snow. She tipped her head back and let the cold wind breeze through her hair, inhaling deeply as she enjoyed the sense of stillness.

But, her relief was short-lived.

"Everybody down!" Alistair suddenly shouted.

Kira had no idea what he was talking about, but she did as he said and dove behind one of the temple's large pillars. Her confusion didn't last long, however, as she soon heard a bone-chilling cry echo through the air, shaking the very mountain itself.

She checked around to make sure that her companions were well hidden and then peeked around the pillar to see a gigantic dragon, larger than anything she could have imagined, tearing through the sky. Kira watched, with a mixture of fascination and revulsion, as the dragon glided through the air on its frightening wings and landed on a small cliff with a loud thud. Squinting her eyes against the mixture of snow and wind, she could just barely see the dragon lay its head down, as if settling for a nap.

They remained huddled behind the pillars, completely silent, fearing that the dragon would wake up again. Then, after a few moments, Alistair whispered in a hushed voice, "We're not really going to try and fight that thing, are we?"

Kira shook her head, one eye still on the dragon in the distance. "No, I do not think that is wise. We are already exhausted from the temple."

She looked around at her companions and was grateful to see that they all seemed agreeable to her decision, even Oghren. But then, she knew that they were all eager to be done with this temple and get back to the comforts of Redcliffe.

They had been in Haven for over a full day now, and they had encountered difficulties every step of the way. Haven, they had discovered, did _not_ like visitors.

From the first moment they had set foot in the small village, it had been made very clear to all of them that no one wanted them there. The guard had tried to deny them entry, the villagers had refused to answer their questions, and when they found their way to the Chantry–believing foolishly that perhaps the faithful servants of Andraste might help them–Father Eirik had instructed his people to attack them!

Forced to defend themselves, it was only after they had killed Father Eirik and his men that they found Brother Genitivi, horribly wounded in a back room of the Chantry, whereupon he told them all about the dark secrets of Haven. The village, Brother Genitivi explained, was built to protect the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and the villagers had taken that duty to the extreme. They slaughtered any who dared to enter their village, and had tortured Brother Genitivi until the poor man could barely walk.

Luckily, Wynne was truly gifted at healing. She was able to help restore some of his energy, heal his wounds, and wrap up his leg so well that he could walk. This turned out to be a good thing, given that Brother Genitivi absolutely refused to be left behind while they searched for the Urn. He led them to the Temple of Andraste, where the Sacred Urn was said to rest.

Kira decided to leave him at the entrance to the temple–he might have been in better shape, but she didn't want him to risk harming himself–while she and the others hiked through the temple. But, to their dismay, it seemed that half of the village had decided to reside in the temple. They had been forced to fight in every single room they went through. Then, after a day and a half of sneaking from room to room, eating stale bread and drinking frigid water, they finally reached the exit and were attacked by the village leader, Kolgrim.

Needless to say they were all sore, exhausted, and longing for hot meals and warm beds. If they tried to kill this dragon, Kira knew that in their current state they would not survive the experience.

"I think that we can sneak past it," Leliana ventured softly. "It looks as though the dragon is sleeping. If we are careful, we should be able to avoid waking it, yes?"

Kira nodded, brushing her bangs away from her face. She could feel cold sweat on her forehead, and wanted nothing more than to take a hot bath and sleep for a week. But, they were _so_ close to the Ashes. "We had best be careful," she warned, rolling her shoulder to try and work out some of the kinks. "If that dragon wakes up and attacks us, we will have no chance of defeating it."

In the end, they had an easier time of sneaking past the dragon than Kira originally thought. The snow on the mountaintop helped to mask the sounds of their passage; they were able to sneak to the other side of the mountain pass without waking up the dragon.

When they finally reached the other side of the pass, they found themselves in what looked like another temple. Kira looked around at this new temple; it didn't look like the other one, the one with all of the villagers. This place, though it was no less ancient, was almost completely intact, as if no one had set foot here for years.

"This is beautiful!" Leliana exclaimed, prancing over to one of the pillars and clasping her hands together in prayer. "It feels as though this place is truly blessed by the Maker!"

"I bid you welcome, pilgrims."

They all jumped at the sound of the ethereal voice that echoed against the walls. Kira looked around the room and saw an older man standing in front a set of doors she hadn't noticed. Nervously, she reached for her sword; this man seemed to have come out of nowhere. Was he an enemy? Another follower of Andraste, sent to attack them for disturbing the sanctity of this place?

The strange man saw her reach for her sword and held up an armored hand. "Peace. There is no need for violence. I am the Guardian, the protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes." He looked around as they all came to stand before him. "I have waited years for this."

Kira let go of her sword. "You have been waiting for us?"

The Guardian shook his head. "For years beyond counting I have been here, and so I shall remain until my task is complete, and the Imperium has crumbled into dust."

Wynne was leaning heavily on her staff; Kira knew that she was even more exhausted than she let on, but the mage's words were as strong as ever as she faced the Guardian. "The Imperium no longer has the power it once held."

"Ah... does it not?" the Guardian asked. "Then perhaps this is the beginning of the end."

Kira couldn't seem to take her eyes off the Guardian; at first glance, he looked like any other man. But, he had a serene quality about him that reminded her of the ancient Dalish Keepers she had met. It was as if he had lived so long and seen so much, that nothing surprised him anymore. She was fascinated. "Were you one of Andraste's followers?" she asked eagerly.

The Guardian nodded sadly. "I am all that remains of the first disciples. I swore that I would protect the Urn as long as I lived, and I have lived a long time." He gazed over their heads, as if seeing something through the walls of the temple. "My brethren and I carried Andraste from Tevinter to this sanctuary, where we vowed to revere her memory and guard her. I have watched generations of my brethren take up the mantles of their fathers. For generations they did this; joyful, unwavering in their appointed tasks. But now, they have forgotten their way. They have forgotten Andraste, and their promise."

Kira felt an overwhelming sense of sadness at this pronouncement. She knew that he was speaking of the villagers who had lost their way, and were now killing innocents. She lowered her head; to think that so many of Andraste's followers had deserted her, after all that she had done for humanity. It was heartbreaking.

The Guardian must have known what she was feeling–or perhaps he could sense her thoughts–for he looked at her with the ghost of a smile, though it was tinged with great sorrow. "It is as it is. The Maker will judge them for their actions."

Silence greeted his words. It seemed as though this ancient man who so exemplified loyalty and devotion humbled them all, even Aric and Oghren.

Finally, Wynne cleared her throat. "Guardian, we must reach the Sacred Urn. We are in need of Andraste's Ashes to cure a noble man."

The Guardian nodded, as if he had expected this. "Before you will be allowed to see the Ashes, you must first prove yourselves worthy."

"We must fight you?" Kira frowned; she did not wish to engage such a peaceful man in battle.

"No; it is not my place to test your worthiness. The Gauntlet will do that. But, before you go I must ask each of you a question." He studied Kira thoughtfully, with a look that made her think he could see into her very soul. "I see that the path that lead you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past, your suffering, and the suffering of others. Kira, Warden and noble, you abandoned your family. So desperate were you to seek your own path, that you left them and sought shelter within the Wardens. Tell me, do you regret your choice?"

Kira took a step away from the Guardian. "How do you know that?"

"Your path is plain for me to see, from the scars on your heart to the pain in your mind. The question stands: do you regret running from your family?"

Kira lowered her head, so that her companions should not see the pain leap into her eyes. What the Guardian said was true; she had run from her family. She had loathed the life that Mother had tried to build for her. She abhorred the Grand Game, the way Mother paraded her, and her sisters around, as if they were prized animals brought to show. She hated how Mother tried to shove her at this or that nobleman, hoping that Kira would snag a rich man for a husband.

So, she ran. Simple as that. Without even bothering to inform her family, she ran from their beautiful home in Val Foret and joined the Grey Wardens.

Warden-Commander Mikhail had informed her parents that she survived the Joining, but her mother had not even bothered to reply. Father understood Kira's reasons, but it had taken a year for Mother to forgive her; a full year before Mother deigned to speak with her again. And even though she occasionally wrote, Kira's relationship with her was forever strained. If anything, Kira suspected that Mother only forgave her as a way of claiming a close relationship to the Grey Wardens, something she used to intimidate her fellow nobles.

"I... yes," Kira finally admitted. "Mother and I could have been as other families, had I not taken the cowards' way out and run. I regret abandoning her, my father, and my sisters, but I do not regret my life as a Grey Warden."

The Guardian accepted her answer and directed his next question to Aric, asking if the dwarf ever regretted what happened to his father. Aric, who rarely spoke of his family, said only that he regretted that his father died before he could have seen his son become a Grey Warden, and regain their family honor.

One by one, the Guardian questioned them all. Kira was not surprised to hear that her companions had so many doubts and fears. But, it was what made them great warriors. They all had things they regretted, they all had shadows of the past that chased them, but they held their heads high and continued forward.

Finally, when he was finished with his questions, the Guardian nodded at them all. "The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek." With those words, he disappeared.

Kira's heart fluttered in her chest. This was it; they were so close she could almost taste it. Andraste's Ashes would enable them to cure Arl Eamon, who in turn could end this civil war and help them against the Blight. Taking a deep, nervous breath, she and her friends walked further into the Gauntlet.

oOo

Kali stood in the main hall of Redcliffe Castle with Zevran, Tamlen, and Bann Teagan–just returned from his trip to Denerim–watching as Ashara paced in front of them. They were gathered to discuss what would happen once Arl Eamon woke, and how they would go about bringing Loghain to justice.

"Keeper Lanaya said that Kira and the others have left Haven, and are on their way here," Ashara said curtly. Kali noticed that her words were a bit sharper than normal but then, she had been tense and agitated ever since Morrigan told them how an Archdemon dies. Kali knew that Ashara was angry that Kira and Aric had kept that to themselves. She knew that the Dalish woman was going to have a long talk with them after they returned from Haven.

"Forgive me," Bann Teagan interrupted, "but how does she know this? Did they send her a letter? Would it not have made more sense to send it here?"

Ashara waved a hand. "She heard it on the wind. The Dalish Keepers know that we've been waiting for them, so they've kept an eye to the trees. Lanaya said the birds told her that there are seven of them, which means that they picked someone up during their time in Haven, but I don't know who."

Kali put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile at the expression on Teagan's face. She and the others may have gotten used to the strange way that Dalish Keepers gathered information, but she knew that it still sounded odd to strangers. She caught Zevran's mischievous wink and had to turn her face away, otherwise she would have started giggling.

Teagan, however, seemed to be a very respectful man, for he merely nodded and accepted Ashara's word without asking questions. Though, his face was still a mask of polite curiosity.

"Do you know if they found Andraste's Ashes?" Tamlen asked.

"No, but Keeper Lanaya said that they should be here within the next few days." Ashara stopped her pacing and looked at Teagan. "Assuming that they did find the Ashes, we'll be able to cure Eamon. Alistair has assured me that he will be able to bring Loghain to justice, but I'd like to know how he'll plan to do this."

Teagan inclined his head, seemingly unperturbed by Ashara's brusque manner. "My brother will most likely call a Landsmeet."

Ashara tilted her head. "What is a Landsmeet?"

"It is a gathering of all of the Ferelden nobility. There, they meet and decide various matters of import. By summoning a Landsmeet, we will be in the position of calling Loghain's leadership and actions into question. If the other nobles are in agreement, we shall be able to revoke Loghain's command."

Kali bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. This didn't exactly seem like a perfect plan to her. "Are you sure that calling a Landsmeet would work? I mean, you said that Loghain is telling everyone that the Grey Wardens are traitors, right? How can we expect the nobles to believe us? We'll be a group of elves, questioning the leadership of one of the greatest heroes of Ferelden."

Teagan sighed audibly. "This is why we need my brother's advice and counsel. He is highly respected within the Landsmeet for his fair hand, and for the fact that our sister was the beloved Queen Rowan. If he questions Loghain's leadership, others will follow." He rubbed his temples. "But, Loghain has powerful allies. I cannot say what will happen."

Ashara's eyes were like two chips of coal. "Then we had better hope that Kira and the others found Andraste's Ashes and that we can cure your brother. It's past time to destroy Loghain and end this Blight."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Asha'belannar - literally: Woman of Many Years; name for Flemeth<br>Era'din - literally: Stories of the Dead; the festival day honoring Falon'Din and Dirthamen  
>ashalan - literally: woman of the blood; sister<br>_

_A big thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, or requesting alerts!  
><em>


	40. Your Secrets I Will Keep

_Lots of thanks to my beta goddess, Kira Tamarion, for her suggestions, patient work, and encouragement_

* * *

><p><strong>Your Secrets I Will Keep<strong>

After everything it had taken to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes, after all of the fighting, the worry, and the hope, Ashara was both irritated and amused to find herself wishing that they had just left Eamon to his sickness.

The Creators really did have a sense of humor, didn't they?

Eamon–or rather, _Arl_ Eamon, as she was supposed to call him to his face–was perhaps the most arrogant fool she had ever had the misfortune to meet. It had taken a lot of effort on their part to cure him of his illness; Kira had told her about the trials they had endured in Haven. They had risked their lives to save his; not only that, but they had also saved his son, and saved his entire village. But, did he show any signs of being grateful? Of course not.

He simply tossed them a shield, and said they were always welcome to stay within his halls. Ashara fought the urge to stamp her foot and set his castle on fire. As if they needed his permission to stay! Their army was already gathering here; she and her companions would be here whether Eamon liked it or not. She hadn't expected him to throw a banquet for them, or anything like that, but for the love of _Mythal_ could he at least have been a little bit more appreciative?

Ashara stood below the dais in the main hall with her companions, watching with critical eyes as Eamon paced between his infuriating wife and his honorable brother. They had informed him about everything that Loghain had done but, in typical human fashion, he was slow to accept it.

"I would have believed that my horse could speak, before I would have believed that Loghain could turn against his king," Eamon remarked sadly. Creators, these _shemlen_ nobles were so slow in their thinking! She could practically hear the wheels in his head attempting to spin.

Teagan looked at his brother with a hard edge to his voice. "I assure you, Loghain has done what the Wardens claim. I was there when he addressed the Landsmeet, Brother. He has called the Grey Wardens traitors to the Crown, and claims that he withdrew his soldiers for the greater good. I tell you, he has run mad with power."

"Mad, indeed!" Eamon stopped pacing and crossed his arms, rising to the balls of his feet and settling down again, reminding Ashara of a fox pacing around in agitation. "Mad enough to abandon his king, to poison me, and seize control of Ferelden!"

"Yes, yes, he's gone mad," Ashara said, impatient with all this talking. "That is no longer a subject for debate; now, we must decide how to stop him." She looked the nobleman square in the eyes. "The Blight is coming; we need all of the soldiers we can get to fight it, which includes the royal army. With Loghain out of the way, we can hope that the _shemlen_ will listen to us Grey Wardens and agree to fight with us. Teagan says you can call a Landsmeet to bring Loghain to justice for his actions."

Eamon looked down at her thoughtfully. "It is true that I can call a Landsmeet, but it will not be enough."

"What do you mean?" Ashara heard the harsh tone in her words and did nothing to stop it. "I thought that you could use the Landsmeet to tell everyone what Loghain did." If Eamon couldn't help them, then they had wasted precious time trying to save his life, and she was _not_ going to be happy.

"If my knowledge of such things is correct," Kira interjected softly, "I do not think it will be enough to simply _call_ a Landsmeet. I assume that Loghain has many powerful allies; they will not believe us on our word alone. Ashara, you must remember that Loghain has had plenty of time to assure everyone that the Grey Wardens are traitors and there are many who will believe him. We cannot simply walk into the Landsmeet and expect others to accept our word."

Ashara wanted to scream in frustration, to shout curses at these _shemlen_ and their infuriating politics. Their allies were gathered! Everything was in place to attack the darkspawn and draw out the Archdemon! They were almost ready to end the Blight completely, but for this last, stupid problem.

Eamon nodded at Kira. "She has the right of it. By calling a Landsmeet, we will have taken the first step. It will give Loghain's allies pause; they will wonder if there is some merit to what we say. But, to tip the scales we will need something stronger." Ashara watched his eyes travel over her and her companions. "What we need is someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen."

She noticed Teagan stiffen. "Are you referring to Alistair, Brother?"

Eamon nodded, stroking his beard in an almost thoughtful manner, but there was something that made Ashara want to narrow her eyes. The way his shoulders were set and the position of his feet set her skin on edge. There was something about him that conveyed dishonesty and greed. She had thought him an arrogant fool before, but now she thought him dangerous.

"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative," the nobleman said. "But, the unthinkable has occurred."

Ashara felt, as much as she heard, a slight shifting in all of her companions. She knew exactly what made them all uncomfortable: Eamon had treated Alistair as if he was lower than dirt, ensuring that the ex-templar never considered himself in line for the throne. Yet, now that he could be useful, Eamon intended to forget all of that?

But for the moment, Ashara held her tongue. She had no doubt that Eamon's intentions had more to do with his desire to control the throne, rather than his desire to keep peace in Ferelden, but now was not the time to pick a fight. "So, you intent to put Alistair forward as king?"

Eamon nodded, seemingly unaware of the tension in Ashara's companions. "If we can rid the throne of Anora, we can rid the throne of her father while at the same time ensuring that the new rule will help us fight the Blight. Teagan and I have a claim through marriage but we would seem to be opportunists, no better than Loghain himself. But Alistair is of Theirin blood."

"And what about me?" Alistair suddenly demanded. So far he had remained quiet throughout this whole discussion, but Eamon's comment seemed to anger him. "Does anybody here care about what I want?"

Eamon looked at the young man with scant sympathy. That simple look confirmed Ashara's suspicions. Eamon wanted Alistair to be a puppet-king, someone he could control, and this was the best way for him to get it. "You are the only option, Alistair. If you do not step forward, I will be forced to support Loghain to end this civil war. Is that what you want?"

"I–but I..." Ashara watched as the fight drained out of Alistair; he sighed and scowled at Eamon. "No, my lord."

"Very well." The nobleman turned his attention back to Ashara, as if the matter was closed. "Now, I understand that you have been gathering allies against the Blight?"

"We have." Ashara crossed her arms. "You may have noticed that your entire castle is swarming with soldiers? We have gathered an army that consists of the mages from the Circle Tower, the _Durgen'len _of Orzammar, and the Dalish. We are almost ready to attack the horde; all we're lacking is the Royal army."

"Then I will take the first step and call for the Landsmeet. We will leave for Denerim within the week." Eamon sighed, stroking his horrid beard. Ashara couldn't help wondering if it was a rule that all old human men were supposed to grow beards. "It would help, however, if we had some proof of Loghain's actions."

"Perhaps you mean something that proves he sold the _Elvhen_ into slavery?" Ashara couldn't help the anger in her voice; she was still outraged that such a thing could happen. "We found that he had invited Tevinters into the Alienage of Denerim, and looked the other way while Magisters rounded up the _Elvhen_ to sell. He was even paid a portion of their profits."

"Is this true?" Eamon asked incredulously.

Ashara scowled. "You doubt my word?"

"It is true, my lord," Leliana said. "I have the documents in a secure place so that no one will find them. They bear Loghain's signature, authorizing the sale of elven slaves."

"Maker's breath," Eamon sighed. "I should be appalled that he would do such a thing, but I am overjoyed that we can prove this. Bring the documents with us, but for now we will say nothing about this to Loghain's allies. I would prefer to wait and offer this proof to the Landsmeet. If we catch Loghain off guard, we will hinder his chance to explain his actions away."

A sensible plan; Ashara could see how that would work. "Then we'll prepare to leave and confront Loghain." Turning her back on Eamon and his family, she looked around at her companions. "Start getting everything ready. Bodahn and his son can stay here and keep the soldiers supplied, but we should bring our weapons and armor. I don't know how this Landsmeet is going to go."

She rubbed her temple, where a headache was beginning to form. They had been in this room talking all morning; she hadn't even gotten a chance to spend any time with Anyu. "Now, I need the Grey Wardens to meet me in the dining hall. We have a lot to discuss."

Everyone in the room began to disperse, but as Ashara and Tamlen prepared to leave, to steal a few moments with their daughter, Eamon called out. "Ashara; I'd like a word, if you please."

She and Tamlen turned to look at the old man, who hesitated, passing a long look at Tamlen. "I would like to speak with you privately, if you don't mind."

A ripple of anger swept over Ashara. "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Tamlen. He is my... husband, as you would say it."

Eamon nodded, though Ashara noticed that he did so reluctantly. Isolde and Teagan had left the room, so Eamon stood on the dais alone, looking around as if he wished he had someone to share his thoughts with. Finally, he cleared his throat. "I can see that your voice will carry weight in the days to come, and so I must ask you to convince Alistair to accept his right to the throne."

Ashara crossed her arms, not bothering to hide the disgusted look in her eyes. "Why do you need _me_ to convince him? Surely even you can see that he does everything you tell him to."

The old nobleman laced his hands together behind his back, assuming a posture that conveyed honesty and openness. Ashara might have believed it, had it not been for the way his eyes were lowered. It almost seemed as though he was trying to prove his honesty, while being unable to look at her directly. "He seems unwilling to accept his responsibility, but we _must _make him do this. Alistair will be a fine king for Ferelden."

Ashara could not let this charade continue any longer. It was true that she herself was hoping that Alistair would take the throne. He could do a lot for both his people and hers. But, Ashara had never had any plans of _forcing _him to take the throne. Not like Eamon did.

She and Alistair would never be the best of friends, but even she would acknowledge that he was a good and honorable man. They held different opinions on a lot of important matters, but that didn't mean he deserved to be tossed around like he was nothing, only to be used when it was convenient for others. Besides, she was the leader of the Wardens; it was her responsibility to defend her companions.

She lifted her chin, putting as much venom into her voice as possible. "So _now_ you think Alistair will make a fine king? After forcing him to live in the stables, then forcing him to live in the Chantry, because your wife is a jealous woman; after telling him over and over that he will _never_ be king, you're actually going to pretend that you're surprised at his reluctance?"

Eamon shrugged away her remarks as if they were beneath him. "I don't expect you to understand the politics of Ferelden, Ashara. You were, after all, not born into them. Just ensure that Alistair is willing to take the throne, and I will handle the rest."

Tamlen's hand twitched towards his shoulder, but of course he didn't have his bow with him. Instead, he clenched his fists and glared up at the human. "Do not forget that you owe us your life, _shem_." His voice was laced with threats, clearly telling them all that he would have no problem taking back the life they had saved. "I suggest that you watch your tone with one of the Dalish Firsts."

The nobleman seemed taken back by Tamlen's words; Ashara took the silence as an opportunity to end this discussion before she or Tamlen did something stupid. "If Alistair desires to become king, the Wardens will support him. But if he _does_ take the throne, he will be well aware of who his enemies are." She looked Eamon square in the eyes. "I can promise it."

Without bothering to wait for a reply, she and Tamlen left the room.

oOo

Kali could tell that Ashara was in a really bad mood. Maybe it had something to do with how she glared at everyone and everything, or the way her cheek kept twitching, like she was chewing her tongue. Or maybe it was because she looked like she was one comment away from setting everything on fire.

Well, whatever the reason, Kali knew that Ashara was mad about something. But, she couldn't figure out why.

The Dalish woman sat at the head of the table, her dark eyes traveling around to look at her fellow Wardens as if she needed a few minutes to decide what she wanted to say. The rest of their companions had been sent away for this meeting, even Zevran. Kali felt a little uncomfortable about that; she didn't really like keeping secrets from him, but there were some things about the Grey Wardens that were supposed to stay hidden. In any case, Zevran seemed cheerful enough about it. All he said was that while the Grey Wardens were whispering amongst themselves, he'd take the time to clean up their room, since between him and Drake, Kali's room looked as though a small explosion had taken place.

Kali looked around at her fellow Wardens seated around the table. Maybe it was just her, but she could have sworn that there was a lot of tension in the air. Alistair looked anxious; Tamlen seemed irritated, and Kira and Aric kept exchanging looks that Kali didn't understand.

Finally, after a long and very uncomfortable silence, Kira cleared her throat. "Ashara, was there something that you wished to discuss?"

The Dalish woman nodded curtly; she folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. By the angry look in her eyes, Kali immediately knew that this was it. Ashara was going to confront Kira and Aric about what Morrigan had said.

"Yes. I want to know why you and Aric haven't told us how an Archdemon is killed."

The two Orlesian Wardens exchanged a nervous glance, like children who knew they were in trouble. "We... had not yet found an appropriate time," Kira said slowly.

"Well, when would an appropriate time be?" Ashara countered sharply. "The night before the battle?"

Aric took a moment to study Ashara's face. "I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and guess that you were already told."

"We were. Morrigan came to my room and explained the situation to Kali and myself, and I told Tamlen." Ashara's scowl deepened. "That was not how we wanted to find out."

Kira's brow furrowed together quizzically. "I am afraid I do not understand. How is it that Morrigan knows? These are supposed to be Grey Warden secrets."

"Uh, excuse me," Alistair interrupted. "Am I the only one who's confused by this?" He looked around at the table. "Could someone please tell me what you're all talking about?"

Tamlen leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "When a Grey Wardens kills an Archdemon, the Grey Warden is destroyed."

"What?" Alistair gasped.

Kira nodded sadly. "I am afraid that it is true, Alistair. When we kill the Archdemon, the taint in our bodies draw its soul to us, rather than to another darkspawn." She looked down at her lap. "However, two souls cannot occupy the same body, and so both are destroyed."

Kali frowned. That wasn't how Morrigan had explained it to her and Ashara. To hear the witch tell it, the Archdemon never actually died. Instead, the Grey Warden's soul just absorbed the taint, somehow purifying the Archdemon so that it became an Old God once again. Kali didn't pretend to understand how it happened, but she did wonder if they should say something. But when she looked at Ashara, she noticed that the Dalish woman didn't seem inclined to correct Kira. So, maybe it was better to stay silent.

Alistair looked as though he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "So, you're telling me that the Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon will die?"

"Exactly," Ashara said, narrowing her eyes at Kira. "Which is why I'm wondering why neither you nor Aric thought to tell us this."

Kira lifted her head. "I am sorry for that, Ashara, but please understand our situation. At first we had assumed that Duncan would have told you, since it is the duty of the Warden-Commander to inform new Wardens about what we must do to end the Blight." She shook her head. "By the time we realized that you did not know, we had come to think of you as friends. It was easier to find excuses to wait, because we did not wish to tell our friends that they might die."

At this, she looked between Ashara and Tamlen. "Then, you had your daughter. How were we supposed to interrupt your happiness for this?"

As Kali watched, the anger seemed to drain out of Ashara. It was as if all of her impatience and annoyance slipped away, like water pouring from a cup. Her shoulders relaxed, her face softened, and even her breathing was more even.

She inclined her head and, when she spoke, her words were no longer clipped. "I can understand that, Kira. I... still believe that you should have told us, but I can understand why you didn't."

Kira smiled, though her eyes were still sad. "Thank you."

"I want to know how Morrigan knew this," Aric said gruffly. "These are Grey Warden secrets."

"She claims to have learned it from _Asha'belannar_," Ashara replied.

"So, one of us is going to die," Alistair said flatly, looking around at them. It was as if he still wasn't sure that he had heard right; he almost looked as if he wished one of them would correct him.

Ashara shook her head. "Not necessarily." She straightened up in her seat and lifted her chin. "When Morrigan told us how an Archdemon dies, she also told us that she has a way to make sure that doesn't happen."

"What are you talking about?" Kira asked, looking somewhat skeptical at Ashara's words. "Grey Wardens have always died against an Archdemon; how is Morrigan supposed to keep us alive?"

Kali noticed that Ashara's eyes never wavered as she looked directly at Kira. "She knows a spell. It would be difficult for me to explain how it works, so I'll just say that the spell will allow us to kill the Archdemon without destroying ourselves."

Kali suddenly realized what was happening and felt her stomach coil into a knot. Ashara wasn't planning to tell them what it was that Morrigan wanted.

"Morrigan knows how to keep us alive?" Tamlen laughed, but there was no humor to it. "Are we supposed to think she offered this just to be nice?"

Ashara waved the comment aside. "She explained the situation to us. The spell she plans to use is an ancient one, learned from _Asha'belannar_. Think of it as a protection spell, a very powerful one."

Everyone still seemed to be a little skeptical of this, so Kali decided to say something. She looked down at her hands in her lap, clenching them tightly while she ignored the knot in her stomach. "Um, I was there when Morrigan talked to us. She said that if she performed the spell, she wanted to leave after the Blight. She made us promise that none of us would follow her."

Kali ignored the nervous butterflies dancing around in her stomach. She had always made it a habit to avoid lying; she prided herself on always being honest, and didn't like having to mislead her friends. But, she knew this was important.

"What, she just wants to leave?" Alistair asked skeptically. "Just like that? She didn't ask for anything else?"

Kali nodded, trying to hide her discomfort. "That's what she said. I think she wants to hide from Flemeth."

"It makes sense, from her point of view," Ashara said firmly. "By keeping us alive, she ensures that we're in her debt. If Flemeth ever _does_ catch her, Morrigan knows that we will be honor bound to help her." She looked around the table. "Honestly, what does it matter? We might die anyway! This is a war; people will die. But, if Morrigan can give us an extra bit of protection, I say we take it."

A sharp silence greeted Ashara's words, with everyone seemingly lost in their own thoughts. After a time, Kira exhaled and spoke slowly. "You understand that if we accept Morrigan's offer of help, we will have to keep this from the First Warden, yes? Should this get out, and others discover that we used a spell to protect ourselves, the Wardens will wish to track Morrigan down."

She lifted her head and looked carefully at Ashara. "However–and I ask that you forgive me for this, Ashara–I must admit that I believe there is something you are not telling us. I feel that there is more to Morrigan's offer than a simple spell."

Ashara met the Orlesian Warden's eyes, and Kali found herself wondering what she would say. Would she tell them the truth, or deny it?

"You're right," the Dalish woman finally said. "There is something that I can't tell you. I have to ask that you trust me."

Everyone seemed a bit hesitant at this, and Ashara tossed Kali an anxious glance. She couldn't blame Ashara for being nervous; if Kira and the others didn't accept this, what would they do? Could they go behind their backs and do it anyway? But, even if they did, the Wardens would figure it out anyway if one of them killed the Archdemon and survived.

Finally, Aric sighed. "Yer the leader, Ashara."

Kira nodded at his words. "He is right. Technically, you are our Warden-Commander. If we did not trust you, we would not have followed you this far. You have not yet led us astray." She took in a deep breath. "Very well. We will trust you."

Ashara let out the breath she had been holding. "Thank you. But, there is one more thing we need to talk about." Everyone looked at her apprehensively; Kali got the impression that they were starting to grow nervous about all these discussions. She couldn't really blame them, not after all this.

Ashara looked at Alistair. "Eamon wants you to be king. As much as I hate the man, I have to agree with him that you should take the throne. I know you don't like the idea of it, but I do think you're what the country needs."

Alistair groaned. "I've told you over and over I don't want to be king!" He looked around, as if he was trying to find an ally. When no one spoke up, he scowled. "I'd make a terrible ruler; you all know that! Besides, I don't know the first thing about ruling a country."

Aric grinned. "About that; I have a suggestion that would work."

oOo

Ashara paced around her room like a caged animal, searching for any escape. Her thoughts flew about her mind like birds blown by the wind, and unable to land. She was too agitated to even pay attention to Kali and Zevran sitting on the couch, lightly bouncing Anyu while the baby gurgled in pleasure. "Tamlen, I already apologized for not telling you. How many more times do I need to say it?"

The four of them were all crowded in her room, talking amongst themselves while they waited for Alistair to show up. It had taken some convincing, but after Aric posed the idea of Alistair and Kira marrying and ruling together, Alistair had finally agreed to take the throne. Ashara felt secure that Kira would keep Eamon from ruling through Alistair, and would help keep peace in the country. Besides, anyone with eyes could see that Kira and Alistair were sweet on each other, so Ashara knew that Alistair would be content with her as his queen.

Now, all she had left to do was convince him to sleep with Morrigan. That would be an adventure all on its own, but if she could manage it, she would have done all that she could to keep her and her companions alive.

Tamlen sat forward on the bed and slammed his fist into the pillow. "Dammit Ashara, that's not why I'm angry! I'm angry that you just accepted Morrigan's offer without even talking to me!"

"How was I supposed to talk to you? You and Zevran were in the village, and Morrigan needed an answer right then!"

"But how can you trust her? The last time she asked for a favor, she almost got you killed! How can you just accept her word that she's going to take this child and just disappear?"

Ashara scowled; she was already beginning to regret her decision to tell him the whole truth. She had felt guilty about it–she had never before kept such an important secret from him–but she hadn't expected him to be mad at her!

She was about to make an angry retort but before she could think of one, Kali looked up from the baby. "Tamlen, you didn't hear Morrigan when she asked us to talk to Alistair. I can't read people as well as Asha does, but even I could tell that she was being honest."

"Might I suggest that we give Morrigan what she wants?" Zevran interjected. "We can deal with it later, if we must. Right now, the important thing is to keep you alive when we fight the Blight, yes?" Ashara noticed that as he said these words, the assassin was glancing at Kali out of the corners of his eyes.

Tamlen sighed and leaned back on his hands. "I understand that. I don't want us to die any more than you do, but I just don't know if we should trust her." He seemed about to say something more, but before he got the chance there was a light knock on the door.

"Come in," Ashara called, before turning to look at Tamlen and Zevran. "You two should leave. It's going to be hard enough trying to convince Alistair to agree to this without the two of you making him even more nervous."

Zevran chuckled and went to the door to let Alistair in. Tamlen hopped up from the bed, but before he turned to leave he walked up to Ashara with a worried look in his eyes. "_Vulpasha_, are you sure this is the right choice to make?"

Ashara took care to hide the doubts she felt. "I'm sure, _emma'lath._"

"Then I'll trust your instincts." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Zevran and I will be down in the kitchens when you're done." With a nod to Alistair, he left the room.

Alistair came in the room and watched Tamlen and Zevran leave, before turning to Ashara curiously. "You know, all this secrecy is starting to make me a bit nervous. What's so important that you had to talk to just me?"

Ashara took a moment to look at Kali, who was still sitting on the couch, holding Anyu and biting her lip. This wasn't going to be easy. "I think you should sit down for this, Alistair."

"Well, if you wanted to creep me out you're doing a good job," Alistair said, but he sat down next to Kali. "What's going on?"

Ashara took a deep breath. She had no idea how she was supposed to ask him to sleep with Morrigan; it didn't seem like a good idea to just come out and say it. "I need you to do something and I'm not going to lie to you; you probably won't enjoy it. But, it's very important that you agree."

Alistair looked from her to Kali, who avoided looking back at him. "Okay, now you're _really_ starting to make me nervous. Just tell me what it is."

Ashara grit her teeth. This was a lot harder than she had thought; maybe she should just take the plunge and get it over with. "All right, I'll tell you. I need you to sleep with Morrigan."

Alistair stared at Ashara for a moment and then burst into laughter, startling Kali so badly that she jumped and clutched Anyu tighter, causing the baby to squeal in distress. She hopped up from the couch and started bouncing Anyu lightly, trying to calm her down.

Alistair continued laughing so hard he was almost in tears. "Sorry, but it's just... this is payback, right? For all those jokes?" He grinned at Ashara.

"Actually, Alistair, I'm being perfectly serious."

As her words began to sink in the laughter died from his face, to be replaced with a sort of horror. "You want me to sleep with Morrigan? Are you drunk?"

Ashara sighed and resumed her pacing around the room. She should have known he would have reacted like this. "Do you remember how earlier, I told you and the others of how Morrigan could protect us from dying against the Archdemon? Do you remember how Kira said she thought there was something I was hiding? Well, she was right. Morrigan needs to sleep with you and perform a ritual." Ashara closed her eyes, knowing that this next part was going to really send him over the edge. "By sleeping with you, she's going to conceive a child; a child that will absorb the soul of the Archdemon. That's how she'll be able to keep us alive."

Alistair jumped up from the couch, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull. "Wait, let me get this straight. Not only are you asking me to sleep with Morrigan, but you actually want me to impregnate her?"

"Yes."

"No! I won't do it!" Alistair crossed his arms, finally settling into anger, rather than shock. "I'd rather die against the Archdemon!"

"Alistair," Kali suddenly said, still holding Anyu lightly in her arms, "you know you don't mean that. You and Kira are going to be the King and Queen of Ferelden. The country needs you to survive."

Ashara nodded. "We need to do everything we can to try and survive the Blight; this the way to do it."

Alistair ran a hand through his hair in an almost defeated manner. Ashara could tell that he was still angry, but at least he was starting to calm down. "Please, you can't ask me to do this. Isn't there some other way?"

"I'm sorry, Alistair, but no." Ashara couldn't help but feel bad for him. Not only was she asking him to sleep with a woman that he hated, but she was also asking him to betray the woman he loved. She couldn't imagine how he felt. "I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't important."

He grew quiet, as if he was thinking about his options. The silence grew–even Anyu seemed to quiet down–until Ashara could have cut the tension with a knife. Finally, Alistair groaned. "If it's the only way, then fine. I'll do it. But, I need you both to promise me something." He looked between Ashara and Kali with a deadly serious expression. "If I do this, Kira can't know about it. I... I don't want to hurt her." He hesitated. "But, if this is what it takes to keep her alive, I'll... do it."

Ashara nodded. While she wasn't exactly sure that hiding this from Kira was a good idea, she could understand his reasons. "You have my word that we won't tell her."

"Why don't I feel better about that?" Alistair winced. "So, when do I have to do... this?"

"Morrigan said she wanted to perform the ritual on the night before the battle."

"Fine." The young man twisted around and walked to the door. But before he opened it, he turned around to scowl at Ashara. "You had better be right about this."

After he left the room, Kali let out a sigh and looked at Ashara with a shadow in her eyes. "You know Asha, I don't really like all of these lies."

Ashara ignored the pang of guilt in her stomach. "I know, _ashalan_, and I'm sorry that you have to be part of it." She looked at her daughter, who was kicking her feet happily in Kali's arms. "But, sometimes we have to do things we aren't proud of, to keep those we love safe."

Kali lowered her eyes. "I'm starting to learn that."

oOo

Alistair marched down the dark corridor, each harsh click of his boots seeming to echo the shouts in his mind. He was going to have to sleep with Morrigan. How could he do that; how could he do that to Kira? To himself?

With a groan, he saw that he didn't really have a choice. As much as he might dislike Ashara's temper and sharp tongue, she was a good leader. He knew she would always take the path that kept her fellow Wardens safe; he believed her when she said that there was no other option. And, he admitted to himself, as his steps echoed against the walls, he would do this if it would keep Kira safe. He would do anything to keep her safe.

He loved her.

Of course, he hadn't yet found the courage to tell her, but he knew it was true. Somewhere along the way, after she had kissed him, he found himself wanting to be around her more and more. He loved to hear her laugh; he loved to watch her emotions play across her face. He loved her sense of humor. He loved her. And, he was starting to think that maybe she loved him too.

When Ashara had asked her whether or not she wanted to be queen, Kira's only response was that she would accept the role, if the nobles agreed. But, he had seen the way she had looked at him. Her face seemed to say that she just wanted to be with him.

That's why he couldn't tell her what he would have to do. He didn't want to hurt her.

But, as he marched down the corridor to his room, he came to a sudden conclusion and changed his course. Even though he couldn't tell Kira about Morrigan's ritual, he could still do something for them both. If he had to sleep with the witch, he could at least ensure that she wasn't his first. He owed that to himself, and to Kira.

Alistair's determination and courage grew with every step he took, and soon he was standing in front of Kira's door. Ignoring his doubts, he knocked loudly, wincing as the sound rebounded off the walls.

When she opened the door cautiously, no doubt wondering who was coming to see her so late, Alistair found himself momentarily distracted. She was wearing nothing but a simple robe and had obviously just bathed–her wet, dark red hair was gathered into a knot at the back of her neck, and he could smell the soap from her skin.

Her blue eyes, framed with thick dark lashes, widened. "Alistair? Is there something that you needed?"

"Um, well," he stammered, mentally cursing himself. This had seemed like such a good idea, but now that he was actually standing face-to-face with her, he wasn't exactly sure of how to proceed. Would it sound strange fro him to come out and directly ask her to stay with him that night? Or, should he ask to just talk to her and then try to build up to it?

Maker, he was starting to feel like an idiot.

A slow smile began to spread over Kira's face as she watched him shift nervously. "Would you like to come in?" She stood back from the door.

Nervously, he stepped in the room. "I... wanted to talk about earlier today," he heard himself say. He hadn't planned on mentioning the subject of their marriage–what was he supposed to say–but now that he was here he couldn't seem to help himself. "I mean I wanted to talk about what we had decided..."

Kira's smile widened. "You mean you wish to discuss our marriage?"

"Well, yes. You don't... I mean, everyone just kind of decided it for you, and no one really talked it over with you or asked your opinion. I just... I mean you don't have to if you don't–"

**Before** he got a chance to finish, Kira pulled him close, interrupting him with a kiss. He relaxed and wrapped her in his arms, enjoying the feel of her soft body pressed against his.

They stood intertwined for a few moments, before Kira broke off the kiss and leaned back. Alistair saw that she was still smiling. "Now, what were you saying?"

Alistair realized he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care. "You know, I suddenly can't seem to remember." He sighed in contentment and folded her against his chest, feeling more relaxed than he had ever felt before. "I love you, Kira. I just want you to know that, whatever happens, I love you."

She smiled at that. "And I love you, Alistair. King or not." She stepped out of his arms and, with a playful grin, pulled him towards her bed.

It was a night he would always remember.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Durgen'len - lit: Children of the Stone; the dwarves<br>Asha'belannar - lit: Woman of Many Years; Flemeth  
>emma'lath - my love<br>ashalan - lit: Woman of the Blood; sister_

_**A/N:** I'm so sorry for the delay in updates; r/l got a little hectic over the past couple weeks, but things are starting to calm down.  
><em>

_I want to send a big thank you to Suilven, for her suggestions on Alistair. I was torn on whether or not he should tell Kira about the ritual, and she gave me some wonderful insight into his reasons for taking either option. A big thank you also goes out to all of you who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking.  
><em>


	41. Piece of the Game

_Lots of thanks, hugs, and cookies to my beta goddess Kira Tamarion. I don't know what I'd do without your thoughts, suggestions, and help._

* * *

><p><strong>Piece of the Game<strong>

Kali really didn't like staying in Arl Eamon's Denerim estate. It was true that Eamon made sure that she and her companions were treated to every luxury they could possibly want; they had everything from soft beds, to huge, comfortable rooms, and delicious food at every meal. She and her friends were treated like foreign nobles visiting Denerim for the first time; she probably should have just relaxed and enjoyed it. And she might have, if not for all of the elven servants.

Kali had long since gotten used to the elven servants at Redcliffe Castle. It had taken her a while, but over time she had stopped feeling sorry for them and going out of her way to avoid them. Most of the servants there were very nice and helpful, and she had started to enjoy talking to some of them. But, this was different.

These elven servants were from families that she knew. She recognized more than one face scuttling around in the kitchens, or cleaning up after her. They came from families in the Alienage and, though she wasn't really close with any of them, it was still distressing to see faces she recognized. These were elves from her home, elves just like her. But now they bowed their heads when she walked by and hid from her, like she was an important person they were afraid to offend.

She didn't like it.

At first she had tried to stay hidden in her large room, but that wasn't really an option. Their sole purpose in coming to Denerim was to use the Landsmeet to confront Loghain about his crimes. All day long, various nobles from all over Ferelden came to and out of Arl Eamon's estate, wanting to meet with the famous Grey Wardens and ask Eamon what he was planning to do.

Every chance she could, Kali escaped to her rooms to hide away from the elven servants and confusing politics. She sat on the large stuffed couch, leaning forward to scratch Drake behind his ears–his favorite spot.

Zevran was sprawled out on their bed, letting the soft mattresses and plush blankets pile high around him. "I must say, this place is much nicer than the inn I stayed at during my first trip to Denerim. The beds there were so horrible, even the bugs had fleas."

Kali grinned. "Really? Didn't you say that when you were with the Crows you had almost anything you wanted? I assumed they would have paid for a nice place for you to stay."

"On the contrary, my little Warden. The Crows do not make their money by spending it on their assassins."

Drake snorted and rolled onto his back, exposing his belly and wiggling his paws in the air; Kali took the not-so-subtle hint and began scratching his furry stomach. A sudden knock at the door caused Drake to hop to his feet, forgoing the attention in case there was trouble. Kali called out that it was open and soon Ashara stormed into the room, followed by an amused Tamlen.

It was immediately obvious that Ashara was irritated about something. She crossed her arms and glared around the room. "Is there anything going on that needs attention? I need to get out of this castle!"

Zevran sat up on the bed with a grin. "Oh? You do not like speaking with all of the nobles? I would have thought that you would jump at the chance to demand respect from uptight _shemlen_."

Ashara scoffed, but Kali noticed that the corners of her lips twitched. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I'm getting sick of the way they look at me. Kira has told them over and over that _I'm_ the Warden-Commander; _I'm _the one that's been leading the Wardens and making decisions on their behalf. But do they acknowledge it? Of course not! They always direct any questions to her; they act like I'm not even in the room!"

She huffed in anger and stomped over to the couch, slumping down next to Kali. "_Ira'en soren shemlen_!"

Kali had to hide a smile at how deeply Ashara was offended. It was something city elves got used to really quickly, but obviously Ashara wasn't taking it too well. Not that Kali could really blame her; it wasn't right for humans to look down on them just because of their race. But, Ashara could be very dramatic when she got angry; it was kind of amusing to see.

"Well Asha, if you want a distraction we could go see my family," Kali said. It was true that she didn't really relish the thought of going back to the Alienage, but she still felt that if she was in Denerim, she owed it to her father to visit him at least once. "Maybe we can visit the Alienage?"

Zevran chuckled. "I can assure you that no one will look down their noses at you in the Alienage, Ashara."

Ashara had a quick temper, but it had a habit of disappearing just as quickly, and Zevran's words seemed to pull her out of her bad mood; she grinned. "I suppose we can do that. If you're sure you want to go home, Kali?"

Kali nodded. "I don't think I'd mind _visiting_, at least. Besides, we don't know how the Landsmeet is going to go and as soon as we have the Royal Army join us, we'll have to march back to Redcliffe."

Ashara hopped up from the couch, looking much more cheerful. "All right. I'll go tell Kira we're stepping out for a while, and then we'll go."

"Make sure to bring weapons," Tamlen said, adjusting the hidden dagger he wore under his shirt. "Just in case we get into another fight like the last time we went to the Alienage."

Kali tucked her knife into her belt and pulled her tunic down over it. Though they were officially known as Grey Wardens now–with the Landsmeet being called they had no reason to hide from Loghain–Arl Eamon had suggested that, for the sake of appearances, they still shouldn't carry weapons with them, since the law stated that elves weren't allowed to handle weapons.

Of course, unbeknownst to Eamon, none of them were following his suggestion. Tamlen and Zevran had ignored the rule the last time they came through Denerim, and this time even Ashara and Kali carried hidden knives. It was good to be prepared for anything; who knew what Loghain might try now that he knew they were in Denerim?

So far he hadn't done a single thing to acknowledge their presence, but Arl Eamon said he couldn't be ignorant of it. Eamon's appearance with the Grey Wardens was the talk of the taverns; everyone wanted to know why they were calling a Landsmeet.

"Do you think any of the others will want to come with us?" Kali asked.

Ashara shook her head. "They're all busy. Alistair and Kira are with Arl Eamon, talking to the Bann of... Oswin, I think. Leliana and Wynne are in the market, trying to find Gavan; they're hoping he might know where Riordan is. Sten is with Aric and Oghren–I think they're in the kitchens–and Morrigan is shut up in her room."

"Oh, okay." Kali jumped up from the couch; she was eager for the chance to get out of the Arl's house. The four of them, with Drake following faithfully behind, left the estate and walked through the market. Since the Alienage was no longer closed–though Kali had no idea why the guards had decided to open it again–they didn't have to sneak in; they were free to walk through the alleys, towards the gate.

While they walked through one of the back alleys, an open area surrounded by houses on both sides, Kali felt the weirdest sensation. It was like her skin was on edge; she got a tingly feeling up her arms and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She stopped in her tracks, looking nervously around the vacant area, trying to figure out what was going on. She noticed that even Drake was beginning to look tense; his ears were flattened angrily and he was crouched down as if ready for a fight.

Ashara stopped to look back at her. "Is something wrong?"

Kali saw that Zevran was reaching under his shirt for his two daggers but he was a lot more cheerful than she was. "There is indeed. You know how I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he said with a grin, "but I believe we are about to be attacked."

Immediately, Tamlen grabbed his own hidden weapons, muttering about how it was almost impossible to detect anything in such a loud city and if they were in the forest he would have known long ago that they were surrounded. Ashara clenched her hands together and closed her eyes; Kali felt the wind begin to pick up and knew that she was preparing her spells.

She turned away from Ashara and scanned the area, trying to figure out where the danger was coming from. Finally, she spotted a few claw traps set a few feet away from them. "Be careful! Someone put traps there!" Tamlen followed the direction of her gaze and nodded.

Suddenly, a man appeared right in front of the traps. Kali almost jumped out of her skin; it took her a moment to realize that he had been cloaked in shadows, much like what Zevran had taught her. With the many shadows cast by the buildings, it would have been easy for him to gather the shade around him, and Kali was annoyed that she hadn't noticed his presence.

Beside her, she heard Zevran inhale sharply. She looked at him curiously, but he was too busy staring at the stranger to pay attention to her.

"So here are the mighty Grey Wardens at last," the man said, with a hint of laughter at the back of his throat. He was human; a very scruffy human, to Kali's eyes. He didn't look like he would be much of a threat, but then she noticed the quality of his leather armor, as well as the daggers clipped to his belt. Whoever he was, he was obviously used to fighting.

"The Crows send their regards," the stranger continued, his eyes traveling over all of them. Beside him, four more men suddenly appeared. Kali swallowed a lump in her throat. This man was from the Crows? That wasn't good.

Ashara raised her head, glaring at the man with contempt. "You're from the Crows, are you? Do you honestly think–"

"Allow me to handle this, Ashara," Zevran interrupted, taking a step towards the strange man. He crossed his arms and grinned smugly. "So, the Crows sent you to come after me, Taliesin? Or did you volunteer for the job?"

He was acting like his usual confident, sarcastic self, but Kali's heart sank when he said the name Taliesin. This was the man Zevran had told her about–the one who had killed Rinna, the man who had once been one of Zevran's best friends.

"I volunteered, of course," Taliesin said, never taking his eyes off of Zevran. "When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I just had to come and see it for myself." There was a cunning look in his eyes that made Kali want to snatch Zevran and run away. Taliesin took a step forward, towards Zevran, and Kali had to fight the urge to jump in between them. "I know why you did this, Zevran, and it doesn't have to stay this way. You can come back with me; we'll find a story to tell the Crows. You can come back."

Kali was too busy staring at Taliesin to see what Zevran's reaction was, but something inside of her welled up. She knew what would happen if he went back to the Crows. He would return to a life of abuse and murder, where his life would mean nothing to those above him. He would be used and abused, treated like an object of no significance.

She knew, from her own experiences, how hard it was to break the chains of the past. Even though Zevran was happy to have escaped the Crows, she knew how deeply that way of life was etched in his mind. What if he felt that he _had_ to go back? She couldn't let that happen.

So she darted forward, jumping in between Zevran and Taliesin as if she could block the man she loved from this horrible situation. "Zevran doesn't need the Crows anymore!" she shouted, glaring at him with more hatred than she had ever felt for another being. "His place is with the Grey Wardens and _me_!"

But Taliesin just started laughing. "So _this_ is your target, Zevran? She's a pretty little thing, I'll grant you that." His eyes traveled to Kali and his smile widened. "You obviously don't know Zevran very well."

Before Kali could say anything else Zevran sighed sadly and put a hand on her arm. "I am afraid you do not either," he said, still looking at Taliesin. "I am sorry, my old friend, but I cannot go with you. My place is elsewhere."

Everyone–including the Crows Taliesin had brought with him–was too busy staring between Zevran and Taliesin to pay attention to what Ashara was doing. But, as soon as Zevran was finished speaking, the Dalish woman dropped to the ground. For a split second, Kali was afraid that someone had hit her, but then she realized what was really happening. While they had been talking, Ashara had been charging her spells; she shoved her arms up to her elbows into the dirt. The ground began shaking slightly, and pulses of energy shot out from beneath it, moving towards the Crows.

To Kali it looked like some huge monster was burrowing below the surface, but she knew that it was only energy. The attack came too fast for the Crows to have time to react, and soon they were thrown back, knocked off their feet by the force of the energy.

Immediately, Tamlen lunged forward and landed on top of one of the Crows, holding his dagger out. In the blink of an eye, the he drew the blade across the man's throat. Drake was barking angrily and charged at another Crow, while Kali jumped into action, pulling her knife out. She rushed forward and stabbed one of the other Crows in the heart before he had time to climb back on his feet.

She jumped up from his body and looked over to see Zevran kneeling over Taliesin, who was struggling to get away. It was as if time screeched to a halt; she didn't even see what the others were doing to the rest of the Crows. All she could focus on was Zevran kneeling over his friend. There was a sad look in his eyes as his hand lightly brushed over Taliesin's face. For a moment, Kali thought that Zevran was caressing him like he might have done with her, but then she saw that she was wrong. Zevran's hand was moving towards his dagger. She almost wanted to call out to stop him, to keep him from killing a man who had been his friend.

But she didn't.

She stayed rooted to the spot and stood silently by while Zevran plunged his dagger into Taliesin's throat. Then, as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't just killed a man he had been close to, he stood up casually and moved away from the body, wiping his blade off on his tunic as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But Kali knew better.

It took a lot of effort, but she managed to pull her eyes away from Zevran and look around the area, where she saw that the others had managed to kill the rest of the Crows. Tamlen was wiping the blood of his dagger and Ashara was brushing dirt off her arms. Drake's muzzle was covered in blood but he wagged his nub tail happily, clearly pleased at having helped.

"Well, this wasn't how I had planned to spend the day," Ashara said calmly, trying to dig dirt out from under her fingernails. "Why would the Crows come for you now? Should we expect more of them in the future?"

The assassin shook his head, at once hiding behind his confident mask of amusement. "I imagine it took Taliesin quite some time to track us down, given that we are constantly traveling. I assume he only discovered us now because our appearance in Denerim is hardly a secret. But I should think the Crows will send no more men. They will assume that I was killed with Taliesin; so long as I do not seek them out, they will be none the wiser."

"That's good to hear." Ashara gave up on trying to clean herself and instead turned to Kali. "I hope you don't mind if we put off visiting your family; I doubt your father will be pleased to see his daughter covered in blood."

Kali looked down at her arms and saw that Ashara was right; her hands and wrists were speckled with blood. "You're probably right. We should go back to the Arl's estate and clean up."

They began to walk back to the estate, and Kali moved back to talk with Zevran. She laced her hands behind her back, to avoid looking at him. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry that he had to kill his friend, that she was sorry that the Crows were still sending people after him, reminding him of his past. That she was sorry they had even gone out that day. But, she didn't know how to say all of that.

So she settled for saying, "Zevran, I'm... sorry, about what happened."

He shrugged, as if it had been just an ordinary day. "I am free of the Crows. That is nothing to be sorry about."

Kali frowned; she hated it when Zevran started acting like that. He tried to bury himself behind a fake smile and arrogant laugh, and only rarely acknowledged that something might have disturbed him. But, as much as she hated it, she didn't want to push him. She understood that this was how he managed to endure everything that he had been through.

She bit her bottom lip and looked away so he wouldn't see those thoughts on her face. But, her silence must have given her away, since Zevran looked her way for a moment and sighed deeply. "I did not wish to kill Taliesin, Kali. However, you must understand that he would never have left us alone. The choice was between returning to the Crows, and remaining with you and your fellow Wardens." The ghost of a smile played on the edges of his lips. "It was not a hard one to make, _dulce mia_."

Despite everything that had just happened, Kali was almost positive that her heart did a flip in her chest. She reached out and grasped his hand tightly, and took it as a good sign that his smile widened as his fingers intertwined with hers. The two of them walked back to Arl Eamon's estate in silence.

Zevran didn't seem inclined to talk about Taliesin anymore, but Kali was okay with that. She realized that sometimes, with Zevran, silence could mean more than words.

oOo

After lounging in a warm bath and getting her clothes cleaned up, Ashara was beginning to feel very restless. It had been a week since they left Redcliffe, a full week since she had left Anyu in the care of Tiatha and Marethari. It was the longest she had ever been parted from her daughter, and it was driving her insane.

While she was gone, Ashara knew that both Tiatha and Marethari would take care of Anyu. They had taken her to the Dalish camp, where Anyu could be around her kin, but that didn't mean it was any easier for Ashara. The distance between her and her daughter seemed like an almost insurmountable gulf that was hard to bear.

She didn't even have the luxury of distraction anymore. Kira had delicately suggested that perhaps it would be best for Ashara to refrain from meeting with the _shemlen_ nobles, since Ashara wasn't exactly known for her diplomacy. It was imperative that they try to smooth talk as many nobles as possible before the Landsmeet. But that left Ashara with absolutely nothing to do. The Landsmeet couldn't start, and they couldn't confront Loghain, until the last of the nobles had gathered in Denerim.

Tamlen sat on their bed, watching her pace in agitation. "You're not going to speed things along by wearing a path on the floor, _vulpasha_."

She heard the laughter in his voice and narrowed her eyes. "I'm well aware of that. But what else is there to do? I'm sick of these _shemlen_ estates; I'm sick of these stupid nobles; I'm sick of seeing _Elvhen_ slaves! Why can't this Landsmeet just get started?" She threw herself on the bed face-down beside him. "The darkspawn are moving north! The Blight is coming and all we're doing is playing around with _shemlen_!"

Tamlen chuckled and rubbed her back. "Eamon said that the rest of the nobles will be here within the week; then the Landsmeet will start."

"Well, what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" She rolled over on her back and sat up, biting her thumbnail anxiously. "Besides, I don't even know what we're supposed to _do_ at the Landsmeet. All Eamon will say is that we're going to confront Loghain. What if... what if the nobles don't listen to me?"

Tamlen studied her face carefully. "What do you mean?"

Ashara dropped her hand and scowled, giving voice to the doubts she tried to lock away. "You _know_ what I mean, Tamlen. We're Dalish. To the _shemlen_ world we're barbaric elves who hate them for no reason. Do you really think these _soren _nobles are going to toss aside those views and listen to me? The ones we've seen have acted like I wasn't even in the room! Kira said that as the Warden-Commander, it's my job to address the nobles, but what if they don't listen to me?"

Tamlen reached out and grasped her hand, his face tender. "They'll listen to you, _vulpasha_. Even if they do think we're heathen elves, we have proof of Loghain's actions. We have the papers that show he had Marjolaine hire a mage to poison Eamon, as well as the papers that prove he authorized selling the _Elvhen_ into slavery. It doesn't matter what the nobles think about us; they can't ignore the proof."

Ashara sighed and scooted closer to him, resting her head against his chest. "I miss Anyu," she mumbled. His words made her feel better, but she was still feeling sorry for herself.

Tamlen wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back comfortingly. "I know. I do too, but she's well taken care of. We don't know what will happen when we confront Loghain; Anyu is safer with the Keeper than she is with us right now." Reluctantly, Ashara nodded. She knew he was right.

They both heard a light tap on the door, and Ashara pulled away from Tamlen. "Come in."

Kira poked her head in the room. "Ashara, Arl Eamon requests your presence in his study. There is someone here we think you should speak with."

"Why?" Ashara asked, somewhat irritably. "I thought we had decided it was better if I didn't meet with the nobles."

Kira shook her head. "This is not a noble. She is a servant of Queen Anora, and I believe you will want to hear what she has to say."

"Fine." Ashara slowly slid off the bed. "Will you tell Kali to come too?" When Kira was gone, she turned to Tamlen. "Come with me?"

The two of them walked from the room and headed down the long hallway that led to Eamon's study. "What do you think the queen's servant wants?" Tamlen asked.

Ashara bit her thumbnail and said nothing, wondering the very same thing. She didn't know much about the kings and queens of Ferelden; none of them had ever thought to try and reach out to the Dalish, and the Dalish didn't bother to learn about _shemlen_ history unless it merged with their own. But, she had heard a lot about Queen Anora over the past few days. She knew that Anora was the daughter of Loghain, and that she was reputed to be a hard woman. Kali had said that the common belief was that while King Cailan had been the ruler of Ferelden, it had been Anora who actually governed the country.

Eamon claimed that she was a determined and smart woman; she was very clever, and knew how to bat her eyes to get what she wanted. To Ashara's mind, that could be a dangerous combination. If Anora ran the country as tightly as everyone seemed to think, it could be assumed that she knew Alistair's heritage. If so, then she could reasonably assume that the Wardens might try to use the Landsmeet to put him forward as king; even an idiot would come to that conclusion. But, Ashara highly doubted that Anora would just willingly hand over her throne.

If her time amongst the human world had taught Ashara anything, it was that humanity never looked out for the greater good. Clearly, Anora was a failed ruler; she let her father take control of the country and he obviously wasn't doing a good job. But, Ashara highly doubted that Anora would admit such a thing. Humans seemed to think that they knew what was best for everyone else; they fought for control and power, never bothering to take care of those under their command. Why should Anora be any different?

"Ashara!" She and Tamlen turned to see Kali and Zevran walking down the hallway, trying to catch up with them. "Kira said we were needed in Arl Eamon's study," the little rogue said. "Who are we supposed to meet?"

"A servant of Queen Anora," Tamlen said.

Kali's eyes widened. "Really? Why?"

Ashara shrugged. "I don't know; I guess we'll find out when we get there."

She pushed open the door to Eamon's study and saw an elven woman standing next to the Arl. Kira and Alistair stood to the side of Eamon's desk, and Ashara saw Alistair toss her a warning glance. When he saw them, Eamon gestured to the _Elvhen_ servant. "This is Erlina, handmaiden to Queen Anora."

Erlina brushed past Eamon with impatience. "You are the Warden-Commander, yes?" she asked Ashara. Her accent was similar to Kira's, which marked her as Orlesian.

"I am," Ashara said, taking care to keep her voice light as she studied the woman. There was something about Erlina that set her skin on edge. Although the woman wrung her hands together nervously and kept her head bowed–as if used to being mistreated–there was a fire in her dark eyes and a stubborn set to her shoulders that didn't seem to fit with the submissive behavior Ashara had seen from other _Elvhen _servants.

"You must help my Lady, Warden-Commander!" Erlina's hands were twisted together so tightly that her knuckles were beginning to turn white. "She is a prisoner at Teyrn Howe's estate! He has shut her away as if she was not the Queen of Ferelden and I do not know–"

"Hold on," Ashara interrupted. "Just, slow down. Who is Teyrn Howe?" She looked at Kira and Alistair. "I think I've heard the name before."

Kira nodded. "He is the one who, it is widely rumored, slaughtered the Cousland family in their home. He is also Loghain's right hand, and does the Regent's dirty work."

Now Ashara remembered where she had heard the name Howe before; Teagan was the one who had mentioned him. But, she was still confused. "Why would he trap the queen? What could he possibly get from that?"

"My lady," Erlina said, "has doubts, yes? She wonders at what her father is doing. He returns from Ostagar, leaving behind her dead husband, full of stories that do not make sense, and now he has seized control of her throne! But, she knows that he will not answer her questions. Teyrn Loghain is... subtle, no?"

She looked around at all of them, as if to make sure that they were listening closely. "So she visits Teyrn Howe. He is privy to all of her father's secrets and is... not so subtle. A visit from the Queen of Ferelden to the new Arl of Denerim is nothing to be suspicious of. So she goes to him, to learn what her father is doing."

Alistair snorted. "I'm going to guess that didn't go so well."

Erlina scowled deeply. "He calls her all sorts of names! Then, he locks her in the guest rooms!" Her voice grew more frantic. "Please! You must come and help me save her!"

Ashara's confusion was only deepening with each word that Erlina spoke. Something about this didn't seem right, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

"Would Loghain really let Howe hurt his daughter?" Kali asked, looking just as confused as Ashara was.

Erlina seemed close to panic. "Please! It does not matter if Loghain would or would not allow it! We cannot take that risk; we must get my lady out of there!"

Eamon cleared his throat, looking between Ashara and Kira. "The young lady is correct. If Queen Anora is suspicious enough of her father to question Howe, then it is obvious she does not believe his story of what happened at Ostagar. She will be a valuable ally against Loghain; we must get her to safety."

Ashara was immediately irritated at Eamon's use of "we." It wasn't like _he_ was going to go crawl through Howe's estate to try and rescue the queen. But Erlina jumped on his words before Ashara had time to say anything. "Yes!" the woman exclaimed. "That is what my lady hoped you would say!"

"Erlina," Kira said mildly, "would you be so kind as to give us a moment of privacy? We have much to discuss before we rescue Queen Anora."

The _Elvhen_ servant nodded and rushed to the door. But before she left, she turned around to look at them all. "Please do not take long!"

When she was gone, Ashara shook her head. "I don't think we should do this."

"But Ashara," Eamon protested, "if Anora has turned against her father, she will lend her voice to us in the Landsmeet!"

Ashara drew herself up to her full height. "And you're absolutely positive that Erlina was telling the truth, are you? How do we know this isn't a trap?" She looked around at her friends. "Loghain has a _bounty_ on Grey Wardens, and _she's _Loghain's daughter! How can we be sure that this isn't some clever ploy to lure the Grey Wardens to Howe's estate and kill us?"

"A fair point," Zevran remarked thoughtfully. "Traps are easiest to spring when the victim is unsuspecting."

"But you _are_ suspicious," Eamon said firmly. "So you won't be traveling in there blindly. If there _is_ a trap, then you'll be ready for it. But we need to get Queen Anora out of there!"

"Then why don't _you_ go?" Ashara was growing increasingly angry. "If this is so important, then why don't you risk your life and go rescue her?"

"I am the Arl of Redcliffe! I can hardly crawl around a Teyrn's castle!"

"Yet the Grey Wardens are free to do so?" Ashara demanded.

Kira pursed her lips, seemingly lost in thought. "She does present a fair argument, Arl Eamon. If the Grey Wardens are discovered in the estate, Howe can accuse us of anything. No one will believe a word we say at the Landsmeet, for the nobles will assume we are liars and charlatans."

She looked towards Ashara. "However, I am more inclined to agree with Arl Eamon. If what Erlina says is true, then Queen Anora will be grateful for our help." She tapped her chin, as if mulling through her ideas. "No doubt she will agree to give us her support against her father in return for our promise to leave her on her throne. If we can somehow convince her to speak against Loghain, there are many who will follow her." She looked around. "I believe it is a chance we should take."

Ashara turned to look at Kira, completely ignoring Eamon. She knew that the Orlesian Warden was intelligent, and from a high-ranking noble family; she knew how to deal with politics far better than Ashara did. "You really think we should risk this?"

Kira nodded. "I do." For the first time since this discussion, she smiled. "Ashara, you cannot pretend that we do not have people skilled in stealth. If only a small group goes into the estate, and what Erlina claims turns out to be false, I have no doubt we could escape without too much trouble."

Ashara thought over her words, considering her choices. Kira's opinion was one that she respected, and she couldn't deny that having the Queen of Ferelden on their side was a tempting offer. Finally, she nodded. "Very well. I'll go with Erlina to try and save Anora. Kali should go with me; she's learned enough about stealth and picking locks." She said the words slowly, thinking over all of their companions.

"I assume that Howe's estate will be crawling with guards," Kira said hesitantly. "Should you not take someone else with you?"

"In any case, I'm not letting you do this on your own," Tamlen said hotly.

Zevran crossed his arms. "I agree. The two of you cannot go in there alone."

Ashara inclined her head, acknowledging the point. "You're right. We can take Aric with us; he's a strong fighter." She looked over their companions. "Zevran, you can go with us as well. We might need someone else who can stealth."

She saw that Tamlen was about to vehemently protest, and grasped his hands tightly. "Tamlen, you need to stay here." She lowered her voice so the others wouldn't hear. "If the worst should happen, Anyu needs a parent. We can't both risk our lives on this."

"Then why don't you stay? I'll go!" he protested, his voice a harsh whisper.

She smiled sadly. "I'm the Warden-Commander, remember? It's my duty."

"Might I suggest that you take Morrigan?" Kira interrupted softly. "She can shapeshift. If the worst should happen, she might be able to escape and alert us." She thought for a moment. "And, she is light in her movements. She is, perhaps, not the greatest option for sneaking somewhere, but she does know how to creep silently through the trees."

Ashara liked the idea. She moved away from Tamlen, trying to ignore the hard look in his eyes as he glared at her. "Good thinking. We'll bring her with us."

She clapped her hands together. "All right; then let's go get the others and get ready." She took a deep breath, unable to escape the bad feeling she had. If she showed even the slightest bit of hesitation, Tamlen would refuse to stay behind. But, he needed to. It was one thing to risk both their lives against the Blight, to risk dying to protect their daughter's future; it was another to risk it on a hapless queen. "Well, let's go see if she was telling the truth."

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><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Ira'en soren shemlen - Those stupid humans<br>soren - an insult; comparable to stupid or idiot  
><em>

_**A/N:** I feel the need to send another thank you to Kira. Her suggestions were really invaluable in this last part, where Ashara was deciding who went to rescue the queen. She pointed out that what I had originally planned was a bit confusing, and helped me to figure out how to handle the next chapter.  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone reviewing, reading, or requesting alerts!_


	42. For Forever, I'll be Here

_Lots of thanks to Kira Tamarion, who has been such an invaluable help. From fixing grammar mistakes and offering suggestions, to providing endless encouragement and interesting thoughts, she has been such an amazing support._**  
><em>Warning: <em>**_This chapter deals with Fort Drakon, and what happens to Ashara and Kali there. It's a lot more graphic than most of my previous chapters. If torture, or anything like it, is something that you're uncomfortable with, you might want to skip this chapter. It also holds references to Tianna's attack, and what happened to her. Though no one comes out and says she was raped, its heavily implied. If that is something you don't want to read about, you may want to skip this chapter.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>For Forever, I'll be Here<strong>

Kali struggled to open her eyes against the aches and pains that seemed to have settled over her shoulders and back. She felt something solid, cold, and wet pressed harshly against the entire left side of her body and tried to shift to alleviate the pain, but it did no good. Her stomach was damp and when she tried to move her arms, she found that her wrists were pressed together. For a moment, panic started to set in. Her arms were pulled behind her back and she attempted to separate her wrists, but there was something binding them together.

At the realization that she was bound she stopped trying to open her eyes, suddenly afraid of what she might see. Instead, she childishly squeezed them together as she tried to keep her panic at bay. This was a nightmare. It had to be. When she next opened her eyes, she'd be lying in her bed at Eamon's estate. Drake would be licking her hand, trying to get her to wake up, and Zevran would be smiling down at her, laughing at how she overslept.

But, when she finally worked up enough courage to open her eyes, she found that she wasn't having a nightmare. This was real. Horribly, terrifyingly real.

She was wearing nothing but her smallclothes, and could feel cold seeping into her very bones, sending chills and aches throughout her entire body. She tried to lift her head up but her whole neck was stiff; with a groan, she lay her head back down and stared straight ahead. All she could see were thick metal bars, and some sort of dungeon beyond. The stench of vomit, blood, and waste was enough to make her want to gag. Was she in prison?

"You're awake."

The familiar voice, soft and pained, caught Kali off guard; if it had been possible, she would have jumped. She tried to look around, to find the source of the voice but it was really hard, given that she was bound and lying on her side. And in any case, she didn't see anyone. There were no guards in front of the cell, no sounds at all. Thoroughly confused, Kali started to think that maybe she was just hearing things.

"Behind you."

It took a lot of effort, but Kali managed to roll herself onto her stomach, though the muscles in her body screamed in protest. By squishing her face and torso into the disgusting, wet stone, she was able to bend her knees up and push herself up on them. She was breathing heavily, both from the effort it took and from the soreness in her body, but at least she was up on her knees. Wet filth stuck to her face; she tried to use her shoulder to brush it off, but it didn't do any good.

Once she was kneeling, she took a moment to look around the cell. The walls loomed over her like some sort of evil omen and, as her eyes traveled over the cell, she finally came to a corner at the back, where Ashara sat with her legs pulled up.

The two women stared at each other for one horror-filled moment, as if each feared what the other might say. Kali noted, worriedly, how... _bad_ Ashara looked. Her normally pale face was almost waxen, and her dark hair hung limply around her shoulders. She wore nothing but her smallclothes, and Kali could see fresh bruises blooming across her stomach, legs, and chest, as well as cuts on her arms and face.

"Asha!" She meant to gasp, but the words came out as a strangled croak. Her throat felt hot and dry; she tried to swallow, but there didn't seem to be any moisture in her mouth. "W-where are we?"

Ashara let out a bitter, hard laugh and lowered her head. "We're in the dungeons, in a place called Fort Drakon. That's where." She shifted against the wall, and for the first time Kali saw that her arms were tied behind her back, much like Kali's. But, where Kali's hands were bound at the wrists, Ashara's arms were pulled tightly against her back, her wrists tied to her elbows. Kali could see the skin on her shoulders stretching from the pressure; it must be painful.

Kali raised herself up and, using her knees in place of feet, managed to half walk, half scoot herself over to Ashara. Her knees were bruised from the effort, but she didn't care. Finally, she managed to twist around and practically fling herself against the wall, next to Ashara. She winced as her back and arms made contact with the wall, but at least she was sitting up, and had a clear view of the cell door. If someone walked up, she would see them coming. It didn't do much in the way of comfort but at least she wouldn't be taken by surprise. Her legs were hurting so badly that she tried to relax and stretch them out in front of her, but when she did she saw cuts and bruises trailing down her skin.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the cold, stone wall. She remembered now. She remembered how she and Ashara ended up here, though she wished she could forget again.

"_Wardens!" The cold, harsh woman stood blocking the doors, cutting off their plan of escape. Surrounding her were no fewer than twenty guards, and she studied Ashara and Kali with an angry look. "You are hereby under arrest for the murder of Teyrn Howe! Surrender peacefully and you may be shown mercy!"_

_Ashara thumped the bottom of her staff on the ground and held up her hand, summoning a ball of flame in the center of her palm. Her eyes were murderous, and Kali completely understood why. _

_It was true that they had killed Howe, but they had also crawled through his dungeons, and saw firsthand what Howe had done. They had seen Oswyn, son of the Bann of Dragon's Peak, stretched out on the rack so badly that he could barely walk. They had all seen Irminric, trapped for so long that he was half-crazed from lack of lyrium. And, they had seen for their own eyes what happened to Riordan. Howe's torturers had just left his dead body to rot in a cell; the damage was so severe that Aric had almost been unable to recognize him. _

"_You're arresting us?" Ashara screeched, looking almost demonic in her rage. "We came here to rescue your Queen, who was held prisoner, and saved two more men in the process!" _

_The horrible woman narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "Do you think me stupid, Warden? Loghain would never allow his daughter to be held against her will!"_

_Ashara's face was splotched red in her anger. "Then you are a fool! Anora is–"_

"_Thank the Maker you're here, Cauthrien!" Anora, who had been concealed in a guard's uniform, suddenly ripped her helmet off and flung it to the ground. Her eyes were wild. "These Grey Wardens kidnapped me!"_

_As Kali watched, the color drained out of Ashara's face; she turned to Anora with a deadly calm almost more frightening than her anger had been. "You _shemlen_ bitch," she hissed. "I will see you in the abyss if it's the last thing I do."_

Kali squeezed her eyes shut as tears welled up. She remembered fighting against Cauthrien's men; she remembered that moment when all the hope drained out of her, and she realized that they weren't going to win. She remembered that Ashara had grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her down the hallway after the others. But, they were too drained and the guards were too fast.

They had grabbed her around her waist and shoulders and pulled her back. She remembered looking down the hallway, where she could see that Zevran, Morrigan, and Aric had been able to get away. Anora and Erlina were long gone. Zevran had turned back around; she had seen him preparing to come for her. _Escape!_ She had thought. _Get away before they catch you too!_ She had seen the refusal in his eyes, and then Aric was forcibly pulling him down the hallway, and they were gone.

She knew that no one would be able to come for them. Fort Drakon was infamous in Denerim. An impenetrable fortress originally built by the Imperium, it was known for its hardened soldiers and heavy defense. No one would be stupid enough to break in; if they did, they wouldn't make it out

Kali was crying now; they had been captured by Loghain's men, and there was no hope for escape. She knew what happened to murderers in prison. "Asha," she whispered, "are we... going to be executed?"

Ashara lifted her head and looked up at the ceiling. "I... think so." Even now, in the face of death, she wouldn't lie to Kali. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears rolled down her cheeks. "_Emma'abelas, ashalan. Emma ir'abelas._"

Kali wanted to tell Ashara that it wasn't her fault, but when she opened her mouth the words refused to come. She had never thought that she would die in a dungeon. Against the Blight, sure, she had always been prepared to die against the Archdemon. But in a dungeon, cold and afraid, with no one around to even witness their deaths?

The tears were falling heavily now, and she did nothing to stop them. She'd never get to see Zevran again. All this time, she had been so afraid to tell him that she loved him. She was afraid of scaring him away, and now she had lost her chance forever. To think, she'd even been afraid to tell her father about him!

Father... what would her death do to him? Would he think that she deserved it, for breaking into a Teyrn's castle? Or worse, would he just give up on life, like he had almost done with Mama? Would they even tell him that she had died? Or would they just toss her body to the dogs and let him spend the rest of his life wondering and worrying?

"You can't use your magic, can you?" Kali asked hopelessly, her throat tight. "That's why they bound your hands together so tightly, isn't it?"

Ashara nodded slowly, wincing at the movement. "That's why they bound my hands, yes. I don't need my hands to cast spells," she looked at Kali with an almost pleading desperation in her eyes, "but I've already tried, _ashalan_. That fight took all of my energy; I don't have anything left."

Kali had already known that the situation was hopeless–if Ashara could cast spells, she would have already done so–but still; it felt like her whole body was going numb. They were going to die. They were going to die in this terrifying dungeon. Ashara would never get to see her daughter grow up, and Kali would never get to tell Zevran that she loved him.

But, at least she wouldn't die alone. Scant comfort though it was, at least they would die together. She and Ashara had been together since the beginning, and they would endure this side by side as they had done everything else since they first became Grey Wardens. They had survived Ostagar, the Deep Roads, abominations and demons. And now, they would travel together to the Beyond.

"Asha," Kali said quietly, "I want you to know, before we die, that you've been the best friend I've ever had." Simple words weren't going to make this situation any better, but Kali still felt the need to say something. "Before I met you, I... was afraid, of everything. You showed me that the world isn't always evil, and gave me a chance to learn about my history, to see myself as more than just a poor elf. You taught me to be proud of who I am. _Ma sere... seran... nas_ for being my friend."

She saw that Ashara had lifted her head and was listening very closely, as if everything hung on Kali's words. "And," Kali continued, "I... want you to know that this isn't your fault. I don't... blame you." Her words came out in a tiny thread; between the stiffness in her throat and the aches in her body, even the simple task of speaking seemed almost beyond her. But, she couldn't let Ashara go to her death blaming herself.

Ashara was silent for a moment, her face twisted into a mask of agony. Kali could see that she was holding back the urge to cry but finally, she closed her eyes and took in a deep, ragged breath.

She turned to look at Kali. "_Ma serannas_ for telling me. Because if I... if I thought that you blamed me... I would feel worse than I already do." The barest hint of a sad smile touched the corners of her pale lips. "And... know that you have been a good friend to me, as well. You have become my _ashalan_, my sister. Before we met I..." she trailed off and rested the back of her head against the wall, "I hated everything. I thought that your people had betrayed mine, and had willingly turned their backs on our history. But you showed me that there was good outside of my Clan, and made me see the world with new, less hateful eyes. If not for you, I might have succumbed to my anger."

The two of them sat in a heavy silence, each contemplating what death would mean for them. The silence grew so thick that Kali felt like it was a tangible beast, suffocating them with fear. Finally, Ashara lifted her head and looked at Kali. "If we are going to die, let me say a prayer so that _Falon'Din _and _Dirthamen_ know to look for our souls."

Kali could feel her lips trembling. "I think... I would like that, Asha."

Ashara bowed her head and Kali followed suit, closing her eyes. When the Dalish woman next spoke, her voice was tired and thin. It didn't carry the weight of power it normally did when she spoke to the Creators, but Kali still felt something stir within her.

"_Falon'Din e Dirthamen; Shalin e Shalasa'en; na'lenasha enaste na'isala; el elgen'sahlin mahina halam Shalasa'en; ar'en sahlin'harel; ira'din sahamin el'ana; ar'en mora'din Elv'lin ana ar'en mahina'elgen; enaste ramiva'na lenasha! Ar'en ora'el elgarin nalath tira; ar'en ara'ma isa elvarana ar'en Shalas'an; ira ar'en isa'tiralath el'lath mamae Mythal; e'ramiva atisha bel'mana."_

By the time Ashara was finished with the prayer, Kali was sobbing helplessly. She recognized some of the words, and knew that Ashara's prayer was for someone who had no Clan. It was for someone who was alone, with no one to pray for them or guide them to the next life. She closed her eyes and cried, for herself and for Ashara. She cried for Zevran, for Tamlen, and even for little Anyu, who would never know her mother.

A door at the far end of the dungeon was suddenly thrust open; the harsh sound of the wood connecting to the stone echoed off the walls. Kali wouldn't have been surprised if the terror had made her tears freeze right on her face. She looked at Ashara who, far from looking weepy, seemed angry.

The Dalish woman turned to Kali with a fire in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "_Ashalan_, never forget that we are the _Elvhenan_. If we are to die here, then we will hold our heads up and walk proudly to our deaths. Remember that _Mythal_ will be waiting to welcome us." Water pooled in her dark eyes; it seemed like only determination was holding Ashara's fear at bay.

Kali nodded, trying to swallow the lump of terror in her throat. Although she tried her best to look angry and determined, when the three men walked up to their cell, their faces covered and their boots clicking sharply on the ground, she felt her whole body go cold.

One of them brought out a set of keys and opened the door. Kali desperately searched for some way out, but with her hands bound she was a serious disadvantage. There was no way she could fight them; she was sore, exhausted, and in pain from the previous battle, while these men were healthy and armed.

"Bring 'em out," the one in the middle said. "Loghain wants their information, and we're to get it for 'im."

Kali tried her best to keep calm, her breath steady. She didn't want to panic; she wanted to follow Ashara's lead and remain stubbornly silent. But when one of the men roughly grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her out of the cell, she couldn't help the whimper of pain. She heard Ashara moaning behind her as she too was dragged out of the cell, and no longer cared that she was crying.

This was it. They were going to die.

oOo

Tamlen had thought that Tianna's death was the worst moment of his life. He had thought that he could never again feel so low, that he could never again feel such pain.

But he was wrong.

He stood in Eamon's study, looking at Zevran, Aric, and Morrigan, who had returned from Howe's estate after Erlina and another woman had arrived, but Ashara or Kali weren't with them. "Where is Ashara?" His voice was deadly calm, betraying the stab of fear that plunged into his stomach. When no one answered him, he slammed his fist into the table, causing them all to wince as the wood cracked and splintered. "WHERE IS SHE?"

The blonde woman lifted her head up and speared him with a look of disdain before turning to Eamon. "Eamon, I am afraid we have a bit of a problem."

"A _problem_?" Zevran hissed dangerously. "_That_ is what you call your deception? Give me one reason why I should not slit your throat right this moment." He fingered the dagger at his belt as if to drive his point home. Tamlen looked at the assassin with fear and anger.

But before he had a chance to demand answers, Kira spoke softly, fear causing her voice to tremble. "Queen Anora, where are Kali and Ashara? Why did they not return with you?"

Tamlen glared at the queen, whose eyes widened fearfully. "Cauthrien was waiting for us at the exit. She and her men attacked, and Ashara and Kali were taken prisoner."

Zevran raised his chin and speared Anora with a look would have frightened most men. "She is lying! She gave away our position and caught us off guard, causing Kali and Ashara to be captured. Then she ran like a coward and escaped while we were fighting."

"If I had gotten captured as well, it would have wasted their sacrifice," Anora countered sharply.

"WHAT?" Tamlen shouted loud enough to wake _Fen'Harel_. He didn't hear anything past captured, and rounded on Morrigan, Aric, and Zevran, ready to kill each of them with his bare hands. "You _let _them get captured?"

"It was not by choice," Zevran snapped, shooting a deadly look at Aric.

But the dwarf returned his gaze without flinching. "They were caught, Zevran," he said quietly. It was clear that he wasn't happy about the situation, but he was already thinking ahead to the next step. "It'd do you no good to get caught with them. By getting you out of there, you have a chance to get them back."

Tamlen barely heard them through the blood rushing to his ears. All he could hear was a sharp, hissing noise; he squeezed his eyes shut to try and hold back the rage. When the rushing in his ears slowly faded, he opened his eyes and faced Eamon. "Where are they?"

The nobleman hesitated, taking a step back at the black rage in Tamlen's eyes. "If Cauthrien has captured them, they were taken to Fort Drakon."

"Then I'm going to get them out," Tamlen growled. He marched towards the door, rudely pushing Anora out of his way.

"You cannot go in there alone!" Kira protested. "Fort Drakon is swarming with heavily armed guards; you will be killed before you even set foot inside!"

"I don't care!" Tamlen shouted, whirling around to face her. "If I have to tear that place apart brick by brick, then that's what I'll do!"

He stormed out of the room, seeing and hearing almost nothing in his anger. He rushed down the hallway, shoving _Elvhen_ and _shemlen_ servants out of his way, and finally came to the room he shared with Ashara, his _vulpasha_, the mother of his child. It didn't matter how many guards there were surrounding her and Kali; he'd get them back.

He grabbed his knives off the desk and slipped them inside his belt, before grabbing his quiver of arrows and sliding it over his shoulder. Then, he reached for his ironbark sword, and his father's bow. He didn't care if someone saw him walking the streets with weapons in his hands; if anyone tried to stop him, he would kill them.

As he turned to leave, he saw Zevran standing in the doorway. "What do you want?" he growled, growing angrier. As far as he was concerned, this was mostly Zevran's fault. Anora was the cause of this, yes, but he had trusted Zevran to protect Ashara. He was supposed to bring them back.

"I am going with you."

"No, you're not," Tamlen snapped.

Zevran's eyes narrowed. "And how do you propose to stop me?"

Unable to restrain himself anymore, Tamlen dropped his bow and rushed at the assassin, pinning him against the wall and holding the tip of his sword at Zevran's throat. Strangely, the assassin made no move to fight him, but Tamlen was beyond caring. "This is _your_ fault! You were supposed to watch them! You were supposed to make sure she was safe!"

"You think I do not know this?" the assassin hissed, his face a mirror of Tamlen's own anger. "You are not the only one who has had someone stolen from them! In case you have not noticed, Kali is there with Ashara. Think! Even if you blame me for Ashara's capture, do you truly believe that I would have left Kali?"

The two men glared at one another for a few deadly seconds. Then, with a sigh as much of defeat as it was anger, Tamlen lowered his sword and let the assassin go. He knew that Zevran would never have willingly abandoned Kali. He knew that Zevran would have had to been dragged out of there.

"Then come on, if you're coming." He walked briskly out of the room and down the hall, towards the entrance of the estate; he didn't bother to look back to see if Zevran was following, he knew the assassin was coming.

When they reached the entrance hall of the estate, Tamlen saw that he and Zevran were no longer alone. Kira, Alistair, Aric, Oghren, Morrigan, and Sten all stood crowded around the door. They looked hastily assembled, as if they had all rushed to their rooms, grabbing whatever weapons they could find.

"What are you doing?" Tamlen asked, with a hard edge to his voice.

Kira shifted the shield in her left hand and regarded him. The look of determination in her eyes reminded him of Ashara. "You did not honestly believe we would let you do this on your own, did you? Ashara and Kali are _ours_, Tamlen. They are our Sister Wardens; we want them back as much as you."

Aric nodded. "We won't abandon our own again." His voice lowered and he whispered, almost as if to himself, "Not like we did with Riordan."

Kira's grip tightened on her longsword, betraying her anxiety. "I have sent a messenger to find Leliana and Wynne. They will meet us back here in case... Ashara and Kali need healing."

Tamlen didn't care about their reasons; each moment spent talking was another moment that Ashara was trapped in _shemlen_ hands. He simply jerked his head, acknowledging that they would go with him, threw open the doors and stormed out of the estate.

"Not to be the voice of pessimism," Alistair said anxiously as they made their way down the streets, "but does anyone actually have a plan? Fort Drakon is a heavily guarded fortress. We can't just barge in there and kill everyone."

"Doesn't matter," Tamlen snapped. He followed behind Alistair and Kira, both of whom seemed to know the way to Fort Drakon. "We'll do whatever we have to do to get them out."

Kira glanced back at him. "We _will_, Tamlen. Do not think that you are the only one worried about them. We are all here, willing to risk our lives for both Ashara and Kali, but we do need a plan. There is nothing to be gained by simply throwing our lives away."

It took a lot of effort on his part, but Tamlen managed to keep silent. He didn't _want_ to wait until they had formed a plan; he wanted to storm in and get Ashara out of there. Until he saw her with his own eyes, until he knew that she was safe, he wouldn't relax.

Unbidden, images of Tianna swam in his mind's eye. He could remember, as strong as if it had just happened yesterday, the panic and fear he had felt when he realized that she was missing. He remembered gathering the hunters and tracking her through the forest; he remembered the way his stomach clenched when he saw signs of a struggle. He remembered tracking her to the village, and seeing what those _shemlen_ were doing to her.

No, he didn't want to think about that. Without realizing it, his pace quickened until everyone else was almost running to keep up. Tianna had been hurt so badly that nothing could heal her. He remembered staring down at his little sister, the girl he had promised to protect, her brown hair tangled in the grass, her face streaked with blood and dirt. When he picked her up and carried her back to Ashara she had clung to him, as if she had been waiting for him, as if she'd known that he would come for her.

But he had been too late. Nothing Ashara or the Keeper did could save her.

He wouldn't let that happen again. Tamlen knew what _shemlen_ men were capable of. His greatest fear, the only thing he could seem to think about, was that the same thing was happening to Ashara. He pictured her face scrunched up in pain. He imagined he could hear her calling out for him, and his skin felt cold. If he failed again, if Ashara was crying out to him, begging him to come for her, he didn't know how he could bear it.

To distract himself from these terrifying thoughts, he glanced at Zevran, and saw his own fears mirrored on the assassin's face. "So how, exactly, did they get captured?" He had heard them mention something about Anora's deception, but he had been too angry to really listen.

"The queen," Zevran replied, his words clipped.

Morrigan, who was walking behind them next to Sten, cleared her throat. " 'Twas her actions. She was concealed in a guard's uniform to hide her identify from others. When we found her, she claimed that we could not reveal her presence, for fear that if she was caught she would either be imprisoned in Howe's estate again, or taken to her father, who might also imprison her."

The witch gave a helpless laugh, but there was no humor to it. "We made it to the entrance of the estate, where we found the room packed with soldiers. A woman–Cauthrien, I believe her name was–told Ashara that she was there to place the Grey Wardens under arrest for the murder of Howe, whom we had killed earlier. Ashara, of course, refused to surrender. She said we were there to rescue the queen, but Anora flung her helmet off and claimed we were there to kidnap her."

"So, Anora _is_ the reason they were captured," Tamlen said sharply.

Aric looked back at him, only his eyes expressing his outrage. "Anora betrayed us, yes, but even if she hadn't, Ashara wasn't gonna back down and be arrested; it might've come to a fight anyway."

Zevran scowled, his face darkening with anger. "But Anora's actions caught us by surprise. Had she remained silent, the fight could have been much different." He fingered the dagger at his belt, clearly placing the blame on Anora's shoulders. "I will be having quite a talk with her when we return."

Tamlen nodded in agreement; he didn't care what Aric said. Ashara had gone there to save the Queen, she betrayed them, and now Ashara was held captive. As far as he was concerned, that was all that mattered. He didn't care that Anora was the Queen of Ferelden; he didn't care that they needed her voice at the Landsmeet. He would kill her for this. He would kill her, and he would kill Loghain, who was the one who put a bounty on Grey Wardens' heads.

"So, they only took Ashara and Kali because they're Wardens?" he finally asked. Talking kept him from thinking.

"It would appear so," Morrigan replied. "Once they had Ashara and Kali in their custody, the guards did not pursue us."

Tamlen looked at Aric. "Then why didn't they take you?"

"I'm an Orlesian Warden; I doubt Loghain even knows who I am."

Tamlen nodded and fell silent, unable to think of anything more to say, but powerless against the onslaught of terrifying images in his mind.

When they finally reached Fort Drakon, Morrigan took her raven form and flew around the area, searching for some sort of weak spot, or a way in. The rest of them hid on the far side of a hill set away from the fort, concealed from view by trees and brush. It was decided, after much arguing, that they would wait until the dead of night to rescue Ashara and Kali. Tamlen and Zevran had to be persuaded to agree, but even they couldn't argue with Aric–there were too many guards for them to just walk in during the middle of the day. Reluctantly, Tamlen could see that the dwarf was right; even from a mile away, he could clearly see at least a dozen men walking along the battlements. The walls were high and mighty, surrounding the keep, which was set in the very center of the area. _Andruil_ only knew how they were going to get inside.

"Morrigan is returning," Kira said, pointing to the sky.

They all looked up and saw a raven flying towards them, and soon it landed on the ground. It hopped towards them until it was hidden by the bushes and then, with a glimmer of light, Morrigan sat in its place. "I have been around the fort more than five times, and the only way in that I can discover is a small door at the bottom of the north eastern bastion." She pointed to a tower where two walls met. "Since it is opposite of the main entrance, I believe it represents our best chance of slipping in unnoticed."

Kira nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "I expect that there will be at least one guard stationed in there, even at night. However, if we can move swiftly, we should be able to slip in and kill him before he has a chance to sound the alarm. Once inside, we can sneak out into the courtyard, and enter the keep from there." She looked at Morrigan. "Have you found a way inside the keep?"

The witch nodded. "There is a passage at the back of the keep that looks as though it leads to a cellar. I was not able to get a clear look, though I believe it to be our best chance. Where we would go from there, however, I do not know."

"So, we're going to sneak in tonight?" Alistair asked.

Kira inclined her head, studying the battlements with a keen eye. "If we wait until after midnight, when everything is calm and peaceful, I think we shall have an easier time. Once we sneak into the bastion, Morrigan can perch atop the battlements and signal when the courtyard is clear." She nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Yes, I believe that to be our best option."

"By nightfall they could be dead!" Tamlen said sharply.

But the Orlesian Warden shook her head. "We would know if they were going to be killed. Loghain would want to make a show of it. He has called the Grey Wardens traitors to the Crown; he would execute them publicly, to show the people how powerless the Grey Wardens are, and to enforce what happens to traitors."

She lowered her eyes, and her voice grew quiet. "I think... we can assume that they are being held for... a reason." The unspoken word–torture–hung in the air. But, before anyone could say anything, Kira raised her eyes to look at them. "That is why we _must_ get them out tonight, before Loghain does have time to prepare an execution."

Tamlen felt as though his body had been dunked into a freezing stream. He pictured Ashara, bruised and broken, crying out for him while _shemlen_ stood above her. He clenched his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Aric, who was watching him with a look of perfect understanding, grunted. "It's not easy, laddie. But we don't abandon our own. We'll get ready for tonight and get them out. Do not doubt that."

Reluctantly, Tamlen nodded. He had to believe Aric's words. The alternative was one he couldn't live with.

oOo

Ashara pressed her cheek against the filthy, damp floor, the cold stone offering the only bit of respite from her burning face. She had never thought that she could feel such pain. Her skin was stiff; she could barely move the muscles in her body, and knew that fresh welts, bruises, and blood covered every inch of her. She couldn't see out of her left eye, but was beyond wondering if they had put it out. The pain throughout her body was so intense; she couldn't even bring herself to care.

Out of her right eye, she saw Kali lying a few feet in front of her. The little rogue's green eyes were open, but they were dulled with pain; Ashara doubted that Kali even noticed floor in front of her. After the guards had finished their session, they had tossed the two women back into their cell, smugly remarking that they should enjoy the rest before they began again. Kali and Ashara had been flung to the ground of their cell, and neither of them had the strength to pick themselves up.

Hate was the only thing that kept Ashara's mind alert. Before today, she had never even imagined that someone could inflict such pain on another being. She had always known that _shemlen_ were twisted, evil creatures, but she had not known the extent of their madness. Even Tianna's death had not shown her how extreme their vile ways were. She had begun to think that that had been an isolated instance, a single tragedy.

These men taught her differently. Though they had not violated her or Kali, she had seen, between their bouts of cruelty, the pleasure in their eyes when Kali and Ashara refused to answer their confusing questions about Orlais, as it gave them an excuse to continue. She could not see their faces, but she memorized their eyes; she etched the sounds of their voices in her mind. If she somehow managed to escape this place, she would bring vengeance to these men. She would burn their flesh and listen to them scream. She swore it, on _Elgar'nan's _sword.

But, she didn't expect to survive. She knew that Tamlen would want to come for her. She knew him; he would try to fight to her, but she prayed that _Mythal _would hold him back. Ashara couldn't stand the thought that he might die trying to save her. Bad enough that _she_ was to die. Bad enough that she would never lay eyes on her daughter. Anyu couldn't lose both parents; she needed her father.

Ashara closed her eye and rested her cheek against the cold stone. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to just give up. Make up whatever answer she had to! The guards seemed intent on finding information about Orlais, as if the Grey Wardens were somehow privy to a potential war brewing. But, Ashara and Kali had no idea why they were asking; they had no idea what the guards wanted. The only thing they knew was that Kira and Aric were Orlesian Wardens, but neither of them would admit it, for fear of putting those two in danger. The only war they were aware of was the Blight.

But, no matter how many times they claimed over and over that their only concern was the Blight, the guards never believed them. And the more the guards doubted, the worse the pain was. Ashara moaned, ignoring the tears that rolled down her burning face. She didn't know how much more pain she could stand, before she finally broke and started making up answers. She wasn't afraid of death, but she did fear the pain.

Let sleep come. Let her fall into the warm embrace of dreams and please, never let her wake up.

oOo

By waiting until the dead of night, when the world had fallen into a peaceful slumber and even the wind was a soft whisper, by carefully planning each movement and sneaking through the bastion and into the courtyard, they were able to slip through the postern of the keep and into Fort Drakon itself.

Alistair, Oghren, and Sten were left outside of the fort, positioned inside of the courtyard, keeping careful watch to ensure that no one managed to block their escape. Zevran did not care to repeat the experience of that afternoon when they were caught by Cauthrien's guards; especially not this time, when his job was to bring his little Warden back safely.

With it being so late, there were only two guards walking around the top of the battlements; if they happened to look down into the courtyard, they might see Alistair, Oghren, or Sten keeping watch outside the postern. Morrigan had taken her raven form and watched the two guards, ready to alert the warriors, who were standing in shadows to try and conceal themselves, but it was still a risky plan.

In Zevran's opinion, it was worth the risk. They had already waited too long. His little Warden had been kept prisoner for over fourteen hours; with each moment that passed Zevran found his fear rising.

He knew what happened to traitors to the Crown, and Kali was only a little thing; a wisp of a girl with thin arms and legs that couldn't withstand torture. She was so small, so fragile. The thought of her small wrists being twisted by some giant's hand was enough to make him want to howl. It took all of his long years of training to keep his panic held back and focus on their task.

He, Tamlen, Kira, and Aric crept along the silent corridors of the fort; the passage that Morrigan discovered had indeed led them to a cellar, which had opened up into a long hallway. None of them knew exactly where they should go, but it was reasonable to assume that the dungeons were kept below the main floors, so they began searching for a set of stairs.

After passing by a few empty rooms–thank Andraste that most of the guards were asleep–they had formed something of a system. Zevran would conceal himself in shadows and peek around into the next area, to see if there was anyone about. Luck appeared to be with them that night; the only guards awake were either playing cards in the storerooms, or lounging about the kitchens with the maids. They were so secure in the safety of their fort that no one paid much attention; it was easy for the four of them to sneak silently down the halls.

When they did encounter someone that was impossible to avoid, Zevran would sneak up from behind, place his hand over the guard's mouth, and quickly stab him in the back before he had time to react. Then, when the guard was dead they would drag his body to a storage room and hide him behind crates or sacks. Hopefully, no one would notice until they were long gone. Again, not a perfect plan, but one they were willing to risk if it meant bringing back Kali and Ashara alive.

After an hour of searching, they finally found a wide set of stairs that led down to the dungeons. When they reached the bottom, they saw two guards stationed on watch. Zevran could feel anger pulsing in his wrists as heat rose in his face; these men where drinking and laughing while his little Warden was trapped, cold and afraid.

He dropped the shadows and approached them, uncaring that they saw him easily. They were far below the main floors; there was nowhere for his victims to go, and Zevran wanted to enjoy killing them. He wanted to watch the light go out of their eyes, to hurt them as much as he feared his Kali was hurting. The guards jumped to their feet and scrambled for their weapons but it was too late. By the time they managed to get a hold of their swords, Zevran had his hands around one of their necks. With a savage grin, he looked the man in the eyes before twisting his head, snapping the neck. He let the body fall and stepped away, to see Tamlen moving away from the body of the second guard.

"Over here!" Kira suddenly gasped. Zevran looked over and saw her standing outside one of the cells; he and Tamlen quickly ran to her side and followed her gaze.

For as long as he lived, Zevran would never forget the image in front of him.

Ashara and Kali were lying limply on the ground. Their clothes were gone; they wore only their smallclothes, and neither of them were moving. All of the blood drained out of Zevran's face as he grasped the lock. It seemed to take forever–or possibly because his hands were shaking–but he finally managed to pick it and throw the door wide open.

He flew into the cell and fell to his knees in front of Kali, who wasn't moving. Her eyes were closed, and he could see deep bruises trailing down her pale body. Raised welts and blood covered her face, arms, and stomach, and her blonde hair, which was once so vibrant, was so caked with dirt it was almost brown.

"Aric, keep watch," Kira said. "Make sure _no one_ comes." She came to kneel beside Tamlen and Zevran, her face almost a greenish hue. "They are alive, yes?" Her voice was growing desperate.

Zevran pressed his fingers against Kali's neck; hope welled up in him when he felt the small pulse of her heartbeat. It was faint, but still beating. "She's alive!"

"Ashara too," Tamlen said, his voice choked.

Kira nodded, color flooding back to her cheeks. "Pick them up, but do so very carefully. If they have any broken bones or torn ligaments, we do not want to make it worse." She stood up and pulled out her sword. "Aric and I shall make sure the way is clear for you. Wynne is waiting for us at Eamon's estate."

Zevran was almost afraid to touch Kali; part of him worried that if he held her too close she might shatter. Carefully, so as not to inflict any more pain, he managed to roll her on her back and scoop her up in his arms. He noticed that her wrists were tied together behind her back, but he would worry about that later. Right now, the important thing was to get her to safety.

The movement seemed to wake her; she whimpered softly, flinching from his touch, and her eyes fluttered. He saw her look up at him, but there was no recognition in her eyes. It was as if she didn't know who he was. "I... don... kn... anyth..." she mumbled, barely moving her lips.

"Hush, _mi querida_, it is all right. You are safe now."

He couldn't tell if she heard him. Her head rolled to the side and her eyes closed; he could hear her breaths coming in ragged gasps, as if she was having trouble breathing. Zevran wanted to clutch her tightly, to assure himself that she was going to be okay. But he would have to wait. He had her in his arms; he could carry her to safety. That was the important thing.

He glanced over and saw Tamlen holding Ashara, who seemed to be as oblivious to her surroundings as Kali was. Ashara's left eye was swollen shut, and she mumbled something incoherent. Tamlen raised his eyes and looked at Zevran. In that moment, Zevran knew that they were both thinking the same thing. So long as they lived, they would never forgive this. And once they knew that Kali and Ashara would be safe, they would make sure that these men, as well as Anora, paid for their crimes.

But for now, they needed to get back to Eamon's estate. Following silently behind Kira and Aric, they carried the two women out of Fort Drakon.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Emma'abelas, ashalan - I'm sorry, sister<br>Emma ir'abelas - I'm so sorry  
>ashalan - lit: woman of the blood; sister<br>ma serannas - thank you  
>Falon'Din - Friend of the Dead; the twin brother of Dirthamen<br>Dirthamen - the Keeper of Secrets; twin brother to Falon'Din  
>Elgar'nan - God of Vengeance; Father of the Creators<br>Mythal - Goddess of Protection; Mother of the Creators  
><em>

_**Prayer for the Dying** (is only used if a Dalish is dying alone, without the Clan around them):  
>Falon'Din e Dirthamen - Falon'Din and Dirthamen;<br>Shalin e Shalasa'en - Brothers and Creators;  
>na'lenasha enaste na'isala - your daughters ask for your help;<br>el elgen'sahlin mahina halam Shalasa'en - our lives are nearing their end but Creators;  
>ar'en sahlin'harel - we are afraid;<br>ira'din sahamin el'ana - there is no one to ease our passage;  
>ar'en mora'din Elv'lin ana ar'en mahina'elgen - we have no Clan to guide us to the next life;<br>enaste ramiva'na lenasha - please find your daughters!  
>Ar'en ora'el elgarin nalath tira - We place our souls in your loving hands;<br>ar'en ara'ma isa elvarana ar'en Shalas'an - we know that you will carry us to the Beyond;  
>ira ar'en isa'tiralath el'lath mamae Mythal - where we shall embrace our loving mother Mythal;<br>e'ramiva atisha bel'mana - and find peace for all eternity.  
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_**A/N:** This chapter took a lot out of me, and was very difficult to write. But, as Ventisquear pointed out, what made it a little bit easier was knowing that the characters would be rescued. I hope that the reactions/feelings/anxiety were palpable and believable.  
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_I took some license with the layout of Fort Drakon. I did a lot of study on the structure of a medieval fort, which didn't seem to look anything like the picture of Fort Drakon, so I changed it a bit to make it look like a more common fort. I hope that doesn't confuse anyone. Kira also pointed out to me that it kind of felt that no one was really putting the blame on Anora, and she was quite right. I changed it a bit to show that Tamlen and Zevran are angry with her, but I hope that their reactions are believable. They'll blame Anora for this (they need to blame someone), but they're only concern at the time was getting Ashara and Kali back. They'll deal with Anora later.  
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_Kira was a huge help to this whole chapter, offering up suggestions and thoughts that really made it flow much better. And I also owe thanks to Wyl and Suilven; Wyl gave me some really nice ideas on how they should break into the fort to rescue the women, and Suilven's opinion on breaking up the sections to show the passage of time was very encouraging. A big thank you also goes out to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking. It means a lot!  
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	43. Hate in the Heart

_Lots of thanks to Kira Tamarion for her speedy, awesome beta work, her suggestions on the last section of this chapter, and for her endless encouragment. I don't know what I'd do without her._**_  
>Warning: <em>**_This chapter deals with a sensitive topic; Kali and Ashara dealing with the aftermath of the torture in the last chapter. There are brief flashes of memory about what happened. If you are uncomfortable with that, you might wish to only read the last section._

* * *

><p><strong>Hate in the Heart<strong>

_Kali slowly crept down the silent corridor, feeling along the walls with her fingertips to try and find her way. Everything was pitch black; she couldn't even see two feet in front of her, but this was her perfect chance for escape. Somehow, she had gotten out of that horrible cell. She had no idea where Ashara was, but she couldn't ignore this chance to get away from those guards. Maybe, if she got out of this place safely, she could somehow find her way back and rescue Ashara._

_As she continued to carefully pick her way down the hall, she noticed an orange glow flickering off in the distance. A brief light of hope flared within her; maybe it was the exit!_

_Unable to restrain her excitement, she ran down the corridor, her arms stretched out in front of her as if she could catch the light and hold the hope to her chest. Her heart plummeted into her stomach when she escaped the hallway and found herself in a large, circular room. The orange light she had seen had been torches along the walls. _

_She swallowed back the panic rising in her throat. There were at least a dozen different hallways leading away from the room, like some sort of maze__. How was she supposed to figure out which one to take? Was she going to be trapped here forever? Or worse, would the guards catch her and drag her back to be tortured again? _

_Tears welled up in her eyes; she slumped to the ground and buried her face in her hands. How was she ever going to get out of here? It was hopeless._

"_Why are you crying, little sister?"_

_The deep voice shocked her out of her misery; she immediately jumped to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest, and was confronted by two men. She backed away from them until she found the wall against her back; they had to be more of Loghain's men, sent to drag her back to that terrifying dungeon._

_But neither of them made a move towards her. They both regarded her calmly, as if her fear was somewhat amusing to them, and Kali's confusion and panic only increased._

_They couldn't be Loghain's men, she told herself; they were elves, and Loghain would never employ elves. But they looked so... so frightening. They were almost identical in appearance; the orange glow from the torches danced off their dark grey skin, making them look almost gilded in the light, but their hair and eyes were such a vibrant silvery white that it was like staring at a full moon set against a starless night._

_Both men were dressed in long black tunics that seemed to glitter like sparks of lit ashes in a fire pit__, and one of them carried a long, thick wooden staff, twisted and gnarled as if he had taken it from an ancient tree. His hair was piled on his head; the shimmering strands twining around a large headdress made from the antlers of a deer. The other man wore his hair in twisted braids that trailed down his back, and two ravens perched on his shoulders._

_She pressed herself back against the wall, desperately wishing she could find some way out. "W-who are you? What do you want?"_

_The man holding the staff smiled but made no move towards her. "I am Falon'Din, Friend of the Dead." He gestured to the other man. "This is my brother Dirthamen, the Keeper of Secrets. You have heard our names before, little sister."_

_Kali tried to swallow the lump of fear in her throat as one of the ravens ruffled its feathers. She knew who these two were. Ashara had told her all about them; they were the Creators that guided souls to the Beyond. "You're here to take my soul, aren't you?" Her voice came out in a tiny thread. "I... I'm dead."_

_Dirthamen smiled and smoothed the feathers of one of the ravens, but remained silent while Falon'Din shook his head. "Not at all, little one. The light within you has not yet dimmed."_

_Kali's confusion was only deepening, but she latched onto the first thing he said like a drowning man might clutch at a floating log. "I'm not dead? I'll... live?"_

_Falon'Din inclined his head, which could have meant either yes or no. "There are two paths set before you, little sister, and, as is often the case with mortals, you are free to choose." He waved his twisted staff, and Kali saw two different corridors suddenly light up, but she couldn't see where they went. "One path leads to the Beyond. One leads to the world of the living."_

"_I want to live," Kali said instantly._

"_Speak not with such haste," Dirthamen said quietly, studying the floor before him as if he didn't want to look Kali in the eyes. "Should you choose the path of life you will find the road before you hard. Your feet will bleed, your legs will ache, and your mind will be tested."_

_Kali frowned, not understanding his words. "Well, of course it will be hard," she said slowly. "I'm a Grey Warden; I have to defeat the Blight."_

_One of the ravens on Dirthamen's shoulders began cawing; Dirthamen quieted it down with a soft touch. "That is not of what I speak."_

"_There will come a time when silver is threatened and shadow hunted," Falon'Din said sadly. "This has been set out before you and, should you choose the path of life, you will be forced to endure it unflinchingly."_

"_I don't understand," Kali said._

_But Falon'Din only smiled. "If you choose the path of life, you must do so freely. It is not for us to decide."_

"_Or you can choose the path of peace," Dirthamen said softly. "There is no shame in desiring a place to lay your head, little sister." One of the ravens flapped its wings and began flying around __the room. Kali found herself backing away from it in fear; she didn't understand what was going on, or what these two wanted from her._

"_It is time to choose," Falon'Din said._

"_I... I want to live." Kali lifted her head up, forcing herself to look him square in the eyes. "I don't care what might happen; I want to live." The raven swooped down and settled on Dirthamen's shoulder._

_Both Falon'Din and Dirthamen smiled at her. "You are our true sister," Falon'Din said. He waved his staff, and Kali felt the room begin to flicker and shift. "Go back to the living, young one. We will see you again one day."_

_The floor was suddenly swept out from underneath Kali and the next thing she knew, she was falling._

oOo

Brilliant light filtered harshly behind Kali's tightly closed eyes. She could feel some sort of air rushing over her arms and chest but it felt good, like a warm cloth was being wrapped around her very bones. Her body was pressed against something soft and comfortable, and she could tell that her head was elevated. She opened her eyes slightly, blinking rapidly against the bright light, and saw something hovering over her, though it was blurred.

"She's awake!"

Gradually, everything began to swim into focus, and Kali saw Wynne staring down at her. The mage had dark purple shadows under her eyes and a tired smile, but she seemed relieved.

Then, Wynne was suddenly gone and it was Zevran who was staring down at her with a smile on his face. "Ah! You are going to be all right now!" Kali had a hard time understanding what he was talking about. It felt like someone was inside her head, beating against her skull with a hammer. She groaned and closed her eyes, trying to block out the light.

"I need you to try and wake up, dear." That was Wynne's voice.

Kali's only response was to mumble something–she wasn't sure what she was trying to say–and then she felt something wet and sloppy licking her arm. She rolled her head towards the sensation and was confronted by someone panting on her arm; she could feel the hot, moist breath on her skin and smelled the musky scent. Startled, Kali scrunched her face and opened her eyes to see Drake staring at her, his nose barely an inch from her arm.

When he saw her staring at him, his tongue lolled out of his mouth and he gave a giant doggy grin before proceeding to lick her cheek enthusiastically. "Dra... geroff me."

"Come here, Drake." She could hear the warning tone in Wynne's voice. "Let's not stress the poor girl while she wakes up. Once we're sure she's fine, you can see her for yourself."

Drake's ears drooped slightly, and he gave one more defiant lick to Kali's cheek before slumping off the bed. By now, Kali was fully awake; she stared up at the ceiling, able to see everything clearly. It looked like she was in her room at Arl Eamon's estate. How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was pain... a pain beyond anything she could have imagined.

"Is she going to be all right, Wynne?"

The sound of Ashara's voice snapped Kali out of her confusion. She struggled to sit up in bed and saw a bunch of people in her room. Wynne and Zevran were standing beside the bed with Drake next to them, and she saw Tamlen sitting over on the couch, his brows furrowed together worriedly. But she didn't care about them; she was only concerned about one person. Her eyes traveled around the room until she saw her, Ashara, standing by the foot of the bed.

The Dalish woman's skin was an almost ghostly white, and Kali could see a dark purple bruise around her left eye, but none of that mattered. She was alive. "Asha!"

Ashara gave her a weary smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm glad you're awake, _ashalan_."

Wynne leaned over the bed, blocking her view of Ashara as she inspected Kali's head with a light touch. "Yes; for a moment we worried that we might have lost you. But, I am glad to say that we were wrong." Kali slumped back down on the pillows, not sure of what she was supposed to say. That she was sorry she almost died? Well, it wasn't like it was _her_ fault.

The elderly mage's hands were trailing down her neck; she carefully turned Kali's head so that she could inspect her shoulder. "How do you feel, dear?"

"Like someone is poking me," she said, a bit irritated. Couldn't Wynne let her at least get up before she started asking her a bunch of questions?

The mage sighed and pulled her hands away, instead opting to sit down on the side of the bed. Kali scooted over and tried to free her legs from being trapped under the blankets. She wished everyone would just leave; she only wanted to talk to Ashara right now, to ask what had happened and make sure she was okay.

But, it looked like no one else had any intention of leaving. Wynne smoothed the blankets, looking at Kali with a sympathy that instantly bothered her. "You have been out for a full day," Wynne said. "At times you were awake and incoherent, at others you slept like the dead, and we thought we had lost you."

"Oh." What was she supposed to say to that?

"I healed most of the damage, but the bruises are going to take some time," Wynne continued on, apparently unaware of Kali's discomfort. "You'll have some scars, unfortunately, but I was able to heal the broken bones and tears to your muscles in your arms and shoulders. I suggest that you spend the remainder of the day resting." She gave Ashara a narrowed look; clearly, she had told the Dalish woman the same thing, and Ashara had refused to obey. "Once you're up, you'll need to strengthen the muscles in your shoulders and arms to avoid complications."

Kali nodded her head, since that was what Wynne seemed to expect, but she barely paid attention to the mage's words. She just wished that Wynne would leave her alone. She didn't want to hear about all the damage she got from hanging by her wrists while the guards hurt her; she wanted to put that from her memory.

Ashara put her hands on the board at the foot of the bed and leaned forward. "_Ma serannas_, Wynne. I'll call you if Kali needs anything more."

The tone of dismissal in her voice was clear even to Kali; Wynne pursed her lips together but seemed disinclined to say anything. Instead, she nodded and stood up. "Make sure you rest, Kali. Call if you need me." She exchanged a concerned glance with Tamlen before leaving.

Once she was gone, Kali struggled to disentangle herself from the blankets so she could sit up. Immediately, Zevran was at her side. "Do not exert yourself, _mi querida_. Perhaps you should lie still?"

"She's not an invalid," Ashara said firmly, with a hard edge to her voice. "If she wants to get up, let her get up."

Tamlen looked up at her from his position on the couch. "You know, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for _both_ of you to lie down."

"For the last time, I'm _fine_," Ashara snapped.

Kali ignored them all and crawled out from under the blankets. Her arms seemed very weak; she was having a hard time supporting herself, and when she leaned on her hands she could feel the muscles in her shoulders shaking from the effort. But, even so, when Zevran held her elbow and tried to help her to her knees, she brushed him off. Ashara was right; she wasn't an invalid. She didn't need help.

Eventually, she decided to just sit cross-legged on the bed; maybe no one would notice how bad her arms were shaking. She could tell that Wynne had been right about the bruises; the skin on her legs was extremely sensitive, and when she looked down she saw a bunch of dark yellow ones trailing around her arms.

"How did we..." She looked down at her legs, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes. "The last thing I remember is, well..." No, she wouldn't say that. "What happened?"

"We brought you back," Zevran said, still kneeling by the bed. "You know I will always come for you." Kali avoided looking at him; she could practically feel his questions burning a hole in her mind. But, she didn't want to answer anything. She didn't want to tell them what happened, how the men had laughed when she cried, how she had thought she wouldn't survive another day. No, she didn't even want to _think_ about it, much less put it into words.

Ashara, who seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, lifted her head, looking as though she had never laughed a day in her life. "I hope you're eager for revenge; Eamon says the Landsmeet will start tomorrow." Her eyes were almost completely black. "Loghain isn't going to survive the day, I can promise that."

"We're going to kill him?" Kali asked, for the first time paying attention. She had always known that Ashara wanted to bring justice to Loghain–which probably meant killing him–but she was confused by how... _relieved_ she felt at the surety in Ashara's voice.

Ashara's lips were pressed together so tightly Kali wouldn't have been surprised if she strained all the muscles in her mouth. "He put a bounty on our heads; _he's_ the one who authorized what happened to us. If I have to follow him home after the Landsmeet and hold a pillow over his face while he sleeps, then that's what I'll do."

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost as if willing back something, and then sighed and patted the foot of the bed, changing the topic. "Well, I'm glad you're going to be all right. I need to speak with Anora, but I'll be back later so you and I can talk. If you need anything, let me know."

She turned and left the room, with Tamlen trailing quietly after her. Once the door was shut, Kali heard Tamlen say something softly and Ashara's harsh reply, but she couldn't hear what the words were.

Zevran shook his head. "She has been like that since this morning when she woke up; snapping at everyone, even Tamlen." He turned back to Kali, who stared down at her clenched hands. "I am glad you are awake, _dulce mia_. I was... worried about you."

She nodded absentmindedly, unsure of what she was supposed to say. An uncomfortable silence settled over the two of them before Zevran took in a deep breath. He reached up to tuck a stay strand of hair behind her ear; Kali flinched slightly, but tried to keep herself calm. "I am... sorry," he said quietly. "This was my fault. I should never have left you; I should have kept them from you."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that it wasn't his fault. He didn't know what would happen, and she knew that he hadn't willingly abandoned her. Zevran had gotten her out of there before she died. She wanted to tell him that she was glad he had saved her. Now that she was alive, she even wanted to tell him that she loved him.

But, she was so exhausted. Even the effort of _trying_ to feel something was almost beyond her. "I... I think I'd like to go back to sleep." She looked at Drake and patted the bed before burrowing back under the blankets. The mabari's ears perked up and he hopped onto the bed, settling down beside her. Kali turned away from Zevran and wrapped her arms around the dog. Maybe if she were really quiet, Zevran would let her be alone for a while.

Finally, after a few quiet moments, he seemed to get the hint. With a sigh that Kali took to be disappointment, he stood up and planted a light kiss on her head. "I will not be far, _mi querida, _should you need anything_._ Rest well."

When he was gone Kali buried her face against Drake's fur and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push back the tears and sense of guilt. She shouldn't have let Zevran just walk away; she should have assured him that she was okay, and that it wasn't his fault. Now, he probably felt horrible. Just one more thing she had done wrong.

She tried to force herself to stop thinking about him, but every time she tried to focus on something else all she saw was masked faces leering down at her, their eyes glinting cruelly. In her mind she heard Ashara cursing weakly, and felt again the pressure in her wrists and shoulders while she hung from the wall. No, that was no good. Better to never think about it.

She lay like that for what felt like hours, unable to escape her dark thoughts until exhaustion finally won, and she drifted into a fretful sleep.

oOo

Ashara stormed down the long corridor of Eamon's estate, marching defiantly as if she could somehow outrun Tamlen on her way to Kira's room.

"I'm not trying to upset you, _vulpasha_," he said earnestly. "But Wynne said that you need to rest and regain your strength; you've been on your feet for hours now." Ashara pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the instant retort, but Tamlen still continued. "I'm just worried about you."

She twisted around and rounded on him, all thoughts of trying to stay silent suddenly wiped from her mind. "What would you have me do, Tamlen? Do you want me lying in bed like some sickly _hahren_, whining about what happened?"

He took a step back, looking shocked at her outburst. "No, of course not. But I _do_ want you to take care of yourself. You were hurt, _vulpasha_, and you're acting like nothing happened."

"So what? You want to hear all of the details? Do you want me to tell you how I thought I had lost one of my eyes, how I thought I was never going to see our daughter again?"

Tamlen reached out for her as if he wanted to snatch her and hold her close but she took a step back, out of his reach. Looking somewhat disheartened, he lowered his hand. "Ashara, you know that's not what I want. If you want to talk to me, then I'm here for you. If you don't, that's fine too. I'm just... I'm worried about you and I don't know what to do."

She lifted her chin. "You want to know what to do? Stop asking me if I'm okay! Stop acting like I'm some hurt _da'len_ that needs to be coddled! Just let me focus on the Landsmeet and the Blight!"

A door along the hallway was suddenly opened and Kira poked her head out of her room, looking worried. Her brows furrowed together when she saw the two of them. "Ashara, Tamlen. Is everything all right?"

Before Tamlen had a chance to respond, Ashara turned away from him. "Everything's fine. Eamon said Anora wanted to speak with us, Kira."

"Oh. All right, then." The Orlesian Warden stepped out of the room and closed the door softly.

"Tamlen," Ashara said, not looking at him, "go make sure that our armor and weapons are ready for tomorrow. We're bringing our weapons with us to the Landsmeet, no matter what Eamon says."

Tamlen looked as though he wanted to say something, but he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay." He tossed Kira a look before walking back down the hallway.

Ashara was already walking away; Kira had to rush to keep up. "Ashara are you... sure that you're all right?"

Creators, how many times was she going to have to endure this? Since she had woken up that morning, everyone had been walking on eggshells around her, acting like she was some delicate doll that might shatter at any given moment. It was worse than when she had been pregnant, and she was sick of it.

"I'm _fine_, Kira." What did they expect her to do? Crumple over and sob about what had happened? The guards had tried to break her, it hadn't worked, and she was alive. That was all that mattered. Tamlen and Zevran had killed the guards that had tortured her and Kali. All Ashara wanted to do now was focus on the Landsmeet and the Blight. She wanted to get this mess over with, kill Loghain, and end the Blight so she could focus her mind on Anyu.

She and Kira continued down the corridor towards the guest room set aside for Queen Anora to stay in. But before they reached the door, Kira took in a careful breath. "Ashara, what are you planning to say to the queen?"

Ashara stopped to look at her. "I don't know yet. Why?"

"Well, it is just that after you and Kali were brought back from Fort Drakon–before you woke up–Tamlen and Zevran had to be barred from her room. I swear they would have killed her had Oghren and Aric not restrained them."

Ashara shrugged and continued walking, but Kira put a light hand on her arm. "I know that you are angry, Ashara, and I do not blame you for that. But, you must understand that until the Landsmeet is over, we cannot harm her. Until Alistair is put forward as King, she is the Queen of Ferelden. Once Alistair is King he can order her execution, if he chooses to do so, but until that moment, if we harm even a single hair on her head it will backlash onto us."

Ashara pressed her lips together, reminding herself to remain calm. She wanted to shove Kira away, to shout at her that she didn't care about the queen. Anora had betrayed them, yes, but Ashara's only concern was for Loghain. He was an evil plague on the country that needed to be stopped. Compared to him, Anora was only a tick trying to burrow under her skin, one that could be easily squished.

She pulled her arm away from Kira and pushed open the door to Anora's room, not bothering to knock. The queen was sitting on a large stuffed couch, being served tea by Erlina, as if she didn't have a care in the world. When she saw them, Anora's eyes widened slightly; she waved Erlina away before slowly standing up.

"Warden-Commander," she said slowly, inclining her head. "I am so relieved to see you returned safely from Fort Drakon."

Ashara crossed her arms, ignoring the stab of pain that shot through her shoulders and the weakness in her wrists. "I'm only here because Eamon said you wished to speak with us."

Anora nodded, apparently understanding that Ashara didn't care for small talk. "Very well, I shall get right to the point. I can see that you and Kira will have strong voices in the days to come." She nodded to Kira. "Eamon listens to you both, and for good reason. I have no doubt that he intends to put Alistair forward as king."

"Yes, that is what he is planning," Kira said slowly. The way she said the words seemed to indicate that the Grey Wardens had not yet decided if they were going to support that idea or not.

Ashara closed her eyes and rubbed her throbbing temples. Kira might think it best to play these games, but Ashara didn't have the patience for them. "Eamon thinks Alistair will make a good king, and we agree with him."

"I see," Anora replied thoughtfully. "However, perhaps you haven not yet considered everything. Alistair is a Grey Warden. For all of his Theirin blood, if you put him forward as king it will appear that you are trying to take over the throne for your order."

"I don't give a damn about the throne," Ashara said, her words clipped. "But I _do_ think that he'll be a far better king than your father."

Anora drew herself up, spearing Ashara with a haughty look. "It is not my father's throne. It is _mine_."

"Yet it was Loghain who abandoned your husband at Ostagar; Loghain who sold my people into slavery, Loghain who authorized a blood mage to poison Eamon, and Loghain's men who tortured me and Kali at Fort Drakon." Ashara could feel heat rising in her face as her control slipped. "You can swear to the skies that _you're_ the one who controls the throne, but from where I stand it looks as though you either handed it over to him willingly, or you stood by and allowed him to murder and torture."

She heard Kira sigh softly, but paid it no mind, instead glaring at Anora as if the queen was some sort of filth that had gotten stuck to her boots.

Anora scowled. "I understand that you are angry about what happened to you at Fort Drakon, but there is no need to be angry with me! It was not _my_ fault. I _told_ you not to tell anyone that I was with you; I did not say that just to hear myself speak. You are the one who decided to ignore me."

"I never _said_ you were there," Ashara snapped. "If you had kept your mouth shut for a few more seconds, you would have known that. I said we were there to _find_ you but I didn't say we had succeeded."

"How was I to know that?" Anora countered sharply. "What would you have done in my position? I was placing my hopes on a group of strangers; I had no reason to trust that you would keep my secret. I heard you say my name and I reacted. Simple as that. I had no desire to return to captivity."

"I _saw_ what you call captivity!" If her hands hadn't been shaking so bad, Ashara would have balled them into fists. "You were trapped in a comfortable room with fresh clothing and even a place to wash. Do you want to know what _we_ endured?" She flipped her hair back to show the puckered skin on her shoulder where she had been cut deeply. "Do you see these scars? Compared to what we went through, your captivity was a place of relaxation!"

Anora shook her head; it seemed all of the fight drained out of her, and she held her hand up as if to offer peace. "I do not wish to belittle what you went through, Warden, nor do I blame you for being angry. But, you do wrong to blame _me._ I did not authorize the use of torture, and I did my best to alert Eamon and the others. I am sorry for what you went through, I truly am. It was not my intention to get you captured. I had no guarantee that Howe would not kill me to get me out of his way, and I simply reacted."

Ashara shook her head. She didn't care what Anora's reasons were; she didn't care if Anora really _was_ sorry about what happened. Ashara would never forgive it. If it wasn't for the fact that her main concern was for Loghain, Anora would no longer be breathing, queen or not. And once she was no longer queen, Ashara felt secure that she could either convince Alistair to have her executed, or allow Tamlen and Zevran to kill her.

Kira used the silence to clear her throat softly. "Queen Anora, what was it that you wished to discuss?"

The queen turned away from Ashara to look at the Orlesian Warden. "I wished to offer my voice in the Landsmeet."

Kira raised an eyebrow. "So, you do intend to speak against your father? What do you wish in return for such an act, that we support your claim to the throne?"

Anora nodded. "That is exactly what I wish for." She turned to Ashara. "This is for the good of Ferelden and, though you may be angry, our personal feelings have no place in politics. I have no doubt that Alistair is biddable enough, but surely you must see that he would rather stay as a Warden? He has no desire for the throne; even I know that."

"Once again, you're jumping to conclusions," Ashara retorted. "Alistair has come to think that he could be a good king for Ferelden. He's already planning ways to make this country better."

"I see." Anora inclined her head slowly, as if mulling over her thoughts. "Then, there is nothing I can say that will convince you to support me?"

"No," Ashara said. "If you care about Ferelden as much as you say, then you'll still be willing to speak against your father. You'll understand that Alistair will be a far better ruler than you. But, if you're like the rest of the _shemlen_ and only care about your own power, then we have nothing more to discuss."

Kira sighed softly, but remained quiet as she walked to the door. Ashara followed suit, but before they left Anora said quietly, "You do wrong to blame me, Warden. I have done the best I could for Ferelden, and I meant it when I said I am sorry for what you and your friend have gone through."

Ashara turned around, her face hard. "I don't care. Perhaps your Maker can forgive you, because I never can."

Without bothering to wait for a response, she pushed Kira out of the room and shut the door firmly behind her. Once out in the hallway, Kira pursed her lips. "Well, I must admit that went better than I expected."

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to pretend that I like her?" Ashara asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Even if I somehow forget what she did at Howe's estate, I can't pretend that I'm willing to consider supporting her for the throne. As far as I'm concerned, she's a failed queen who let her father run mad."

"There is no need to be angry with me, Ashara. It was only a joke, yes? I understand, and it is fine. Though you must know that she will no doubt support her father at the Landsmeet now, as a desperate last bid to keep her throne."

"Well, it's not like I expected her to stay loyal to us anyway. Will that affect us much?"

Kira frowned thoughtfully. "I do not know for sure. We have spoken to most of the nobles attending the Landsmeet; it seems that many of them have already begun questioning Loghain's actions, and we have introduced Alistair as Maric's son. With Eamon there to swear to his lineage, many of them have professed that they would rather have a king of Theirin blood than the son of a commoner." She tapped her chin. "While you and Kali were asleep, Bann Sighard came to thank us personally for rescuing his son from Howe's dungeon, and has promised us his support. He said he would speak with as many nobles as he could to reveal Howe and Loghain's treachery. And Irminric has been recovered by his sister, Bann Alfstanna, who swore her family's support as well."

She smiled encouragingly. "I believe we have a fighting chance, Ashara. Even if Queen Anora does not support us at the Landsmeet, we have not yet lost the game."

"Good," Ashara said, her tone as cold as winter. "I can't wait to see Loghain's face when he realizes that the people he allowed to be tortured are the ones who brought about his own death."

oOo

Late that afternoon, Kira sat outside in the sunlit courtyard of Arl Eamon's estate, using a sweet smelling oil–one of Ashara's blends–to clean off the dirt and grime from her shield. The bright sun warmed her skin while the cool wind, hinting at the approach of autumn, was a welcome balm against the stress and worry consuming her mind.

She lifted her head and watched Aric and Oghren sparring in the middle of the courtyard, swinging their giant axes against one another and laughing at the power behind their attacks. Even from where she sat, she could hear their smug remarks that dwarven warriors were better than any soldier they would gain from the Royal Army. Kira smiled; it was good for Aric to do something to take his mind off Riordan.

Alistair sat next to her, using a large whetstone from Bodahn to sharpen the tip of his beautiful longsword. "So, the Landsmeet is tomorrow," he remarked casually. But Kira wasn't fooled; she knew that he was extremely nervous.

"Yes, that is true, and I should think that we have a fighting chance. There are many who question Loghain's actions at Ostagar, no?"

"Well there is that," Alistair continued, allowing his anxiety to creep into his tone. "But also, if things go the way Eamon and Ashara want, we'lll be the King and Queen of Ferelden."

Kira lowered her shield and studied him curiously. "Are you having second thoughts about being King? It is not too late to change your mind."

"That's not... no, I mean... I don't know."

Kira couldn't help but smile. "You have nothing to fear, Alistair. You are a fine warrior; the people will be inspired to have a king who wades into battle and fights alongside his men." She studied the light reflecting off her shield. "You understand what it means to have nothing. You are not some puffed up noble who has never had to work for his meal; you will feel for the poor in your country and will do what you can to help them. I should think the commoners would adore you. From what I have seen, it appears that the common people of Ferelden want a young, energetic man on the throne, a warrior who will defend them against their enemies and care for his people."

She looked up to see Alistair grinning from ear to ear, like a smug cat with a bowl of cream. "Oh, you don't have to stop," he said. "You can keep talking about how awesome I am."

Kira laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "As if you need a bigger head than you already have!"

Alistair chuckled, but as she watched him the smile slowly drained from his face. "I guess it all hangs on how the Landsmeet goes. You don't think... I mean, will Ashara be okay addressing the nobles?"

Kira hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I hope so. She is the Warden-Commander; it is her job to speak for us. But... I do worry about her. She is angry, and though I cannot blame her for it, she is concentrating her hatred on Loghain. She seems to think of him as the root of all evil."

"Well good," Alistair said staunchly. "Look at what he's done! He killed Duncan, he hunted us down like animals; he sold elves into slavery, poisoned Arl Eamon, and tortured Ashara and Kali!"

Kira nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. It was true that Loghain had done many abhorrent things, but she worried that Ashara was becoming consumed by her anger. Everyone else seemed to blame Anora for what happened at Fort Drakon, and while Ashara claimed that she wouldn't forgive Anora's actions, she seemed to regard the queen as a minor irritant, not the main foe.

Kira wasn't sure why she felt uncomfortable by this. She herself certainly had no love or sympathy for Loghain; he had allowed Howe to kill Riordan, one of her best friends. Riordan had done nothing to deserve his death, and it was too dangerous for her or Aric to sneak back into the estate to retrieve his body. They couldn't even give him a proper funeral.

Perhaps it was the degree of Ashara's anger that bothered her. She knew that Loghain would die sometime after the Landsmeet – Ashara had sworn to kill him herself if she had to, and Kira wasn't troubled by that. But, there was something in the way Ashara's eyes had looked–as hard as an onyx–that made Kira uncomfortable. So far, she hadn't even seen Kali–though she knew the little rogue was awake–so she couldn't tell if this was an effect from the torture, or something else.

Although Kira could not even begin to imagine what Ashara and Kali had endured, there was a thought that troubled her. If a Warden-Commander was deemed unfit, it was not uncommon for their Second to take command. Kira certainly did not wish to tell Ashara that she was too focused on her anger to lead, but if the Dalish woman showed no signs of calming down, what other choice would be left? Ashara had a firm grasp of leadership; when she was behaving normally, she ensured that those under her command were supplied with everything she could give them and did her best to keep her companions alive and safe. Kira couldn't stomach the thought that if things continued on in this manner, she might be forced to relieve Ashara of her duty.

Well, for now she would push those thoughts back. It had only been one day since Ashara and Kali returned from Fort Drakon. She had seen with her own eyes how bad the damage was, and she admired them more than she could say for enduring that pain without breaking. Perhaps what Ashara needed was time. Perhaps after they killed Loghain Ashara would come back to her senses. Yes, that would certainly be the case.

But for now, she took care to keep her thoughts hidden from Alistair. "We shall find out tomorrow. One way or another, this civil war should be over, and we will be free to turn our attention to the Blight."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>ashalan - lit: Woman of the Blood; sister<br>Ma serannas - thank you  
>hahren - elder<br>da'len - child/children  
><em>

_**A/N:** For reference, Falon'Din and Dirthamen are twins. There is an image of a statue on the DA wiki that is believed to be Falon'Din, but there's no proof for it, so I took a lot of liberty with their appearances. If my memory is accurate, in most mythology twin gods don't look identical (only similar), but in Elven mythology (according to DA wiki), when praying to one the elves always make sure to speak the other's name in the same sentence b/c the brothers can't stand to be apart from each other. Based on that, I thought it made more sense for them to look almost identical.  
><em>

_For more reference (in case you're curious), Dirthamen is the master of the two ravens, Fear and Deceit, which were the two ravens perched on his shoulders. Of course Kali wouldn't know this, but the raven that kept moving and ended up flying around the room was Fear, strengthened by the fact that she was afraid.  
><em>

_A huge, giant thank you goes out to Shakespira, for all of her help. She gave me some very powerful insight into how Ashara and Kali might cope with the aftermath of being tortured, and some advice on how to portray their feelings, as well as the subtle shifts in personality that might occur later on. Thank you also to everyone reviewing, reading or requesting alerts; it means a lot!_


	44. Deer Dance

_Lots of thanks to Kira Tamarion for her speedy, awesome beta work, and for her suggestions on how to handle Anora_**_  
>Warning: <em>**_The last section of this chapter has a character death. I don't think it's particularly gruesome, but it does go into a bit of detail about the death. If that makes you uncomfortable, just read the first two sections._

* * *

><p><strong>Deer Dance<strong>

The first thing Ashara noticed when she walked into the Grand Hall of the palace–where the Landsmeet was to take place–was the swarm of nobles. They were packed against the walls, or peering down from some sort of balcony that wrapped around three sides of the room. They were pressed together so tightly that they reminded her of a fisherman she had seen in Denerim not long ago, who had struggled to carry a net of fish that flopped around madly.

She tried to keep her head up as she walked into the Landsmeet, followed by her fellow Wardens and Zevran, but she couldn't help the cold sweat that suddenly broke out over her neck and shoulders. There were so many _shemlen_.

Ashara had thought that killing Cauthrien–who stupidly thought she could prevent the Wardens from revealing Loghain's treachery–would have calmed her nerves, or at least given her an outlet for her aggression, but now that she was actually at the Landsmeet, she felt her whole body go cold.

She tried to keep her face completely calm and confident, but she worried that anyone looking at her could see how nervous she was. All of these _shemlen_ were so close; she could smell the pomade in their hair and the starch on their clothing. She wanted to run from the room; to run all the way to Redcliffe, snatch up Anyu and hide somewhere where _shemlen_ could never capture her again.

But of course, she couldn't do that.

This was her chance, her one moment to bring Loghain to justice. After everything he had done, both to her people, and to her and Kali, she finally had her chance to make him pay. It didn't matter how nervous she was; she would _not_ let this opportunity slip from her grasp.

She pretended to ignore all of the nobles turning to look at her and her companions as they walked into the Landsmeet. Ashara tried her best to hold her head up and keep the composed look on her face as they walked, confidently, down the center of the room towards the man she hated more than anyone in the world–Loghain.

By the Creators, he was a hideous man. Or perhaps she was only seeing him that way, in light of everything that he had done. Even the most beautiful of trees never quite looks the same once you notice the bugs rotting its trunk. His black hair was sleek and shiny, giving off the impression of an oily personality, a sly man who never spoke the truth. His old face was wrinkled and his blue eyes were narrowed, as though all of the joy had been sapped out of his life. She did notice that his armor was gleaming, but that did little to alter her opinion. He looked like a cruel tyrant, a man who could step over the bodies of his loved ones without caring.

He was facing Eamon, who stood on the balcony. "You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne, and everyone here knows it!" Loghain exclaimed. "The better question is, who would pull the strings?"

For the first time, he noticed Ashara and her companions walking towards him and he turned, spreading his arms as if to welcome them. "Ah! And here we have the puppeteers! Tell us, Wardens, how much Ferelden blood does Orlesian coin buy these days? How will the Orlesians take us over this time? Will they deign to send their troops," he pointed an accusing finger at Alistair, "or will they issue their commands through this would-be prince?"

_Elgar'nan! _Ashara had never hated anyone so much in her life. Her heart beat faster in her chest; her aching wrists pulsed angrily, as if to remind her that it was Loghain's fault she was still weak. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to paralyze him with her magic, then slit his throat with her knife. She wanted to see the moment when his soul fled his body, to make him suffer as much as he had made others suffer.

She clutched her staff tightly; there was little more than determination that kept her from attacking Loghain, and even that was beginning to slip. But, before she risked losing control completely, she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She looked over and saw Kira smiling encouragingly at her. The Orlesian Warden had decided that it would be best for her and Aric to remain silent–their accents would give away where they were from–but the look in her eyes seemed to say, _You can do this, Ashara. Do not doubt. _Ashara turned from her and saw Kali, almost hidden behind Zevran, staring at Loghain with a fear in her eyes, as if she was afraid that Loghain could somehow cause her to be tortured again.

In that moment, Ashara realized how much she stood to lose if she gave in to her hatred. If she attacked Loghain without any provocation, she would destroy any chance the Grey Wardens had of convincing the Landsmeet to support them. Kali had been tortured because Ashara had failed her. She owed it to her _ashalan_ to make sure that this time, they succeeded.

"Well?" Loghain demanded, apparently impatient that Ashara was taking so long to answer.

She lifted her head up, summoning every shred of self-control she possessed. She was not a weak _da'len_. She was Ashara Mahariel of the Sabrae Clan, First to the Keeper, and now Commander of the Grey Wardens. She could do this.

"Surely you are aware that the Grey Wardens know nothing of Orlais," she said, taking care to throw as much arrogance into her voice as possible. "Since _you_ are the one who ordered your men to torture my fellow Warden and I for information." She could feel the nobles shifting uncomfortably, and did her best to make her voice ring out clearly. "The guards learned nothing because there _was_ nothing to learn. The Blight is the _only_ threat to Ferelden!"

"There are enough refugees in my Bannorn to make that abundantly clear!" a woman said, nodding her head to Ashara.

"The south has fallen, Loghain!" an old man shouted from the balcony, leaning forward. "Will you let the whole of Ferelden be consumed for fear of Orlais?"

Loghain nodded and turned to face all of the nobles staring at him. "It is true that the Blight is our concern. But, do we need Grey Wardens to fight it?" He jabbed a finger at Ashara and the rest of her group. "They claim that they are the only ones who can fight the Archdemon, yet they failed spectacularly at Ostagar!"

Before Ashara had a chance to take a step forward, Kira grabbed her arm and hissed rapidly, "Remember: do _not_ mention King Cailan's death!" Ashara nodded and Kira released her.

That morning, Kira had taken it upon herself to instruct Ashara in what she should say and do at the Landsmeet and, though Ashara wouldn't admit it, she was extremely grateful. She had memorized the speeches she should recite, as well as the correct moment to say them. The trick, Kira had said, was to play to the mood of the nobles. Despite her hatred for Loghain, Ashara trusted Kira's suggestions. After all, the Orlesian noble had been raised in settings like this, and had personally spoken to almost every noble gathered there in the hall.

Ashara took in a deep breath, relying on every bit of her training to contain her anger. If she lost it now, she would destroy everything.

Every single noble turned to look at her as she took a step forward. She felt their eyes on her skin, taking in the Dalish clothing she wore, judging her for her pointed ears and the staff in her hand. But, she reminded herself: she was the Warden-Commander. She had gathered allies from every race in Ferelden while these nobles fought amongst themselves, unable to protect their own people. It was the Wardens who were ready to fight the Blight. She and the rest of her companions were the only ones who could save these hapless _shemlen_.

It was as if she felt the peaceful arms of _Mythal_, the loving Mother, surround her in a warm embrace. All of a sudden, Ashara realized that nothing Loghain said could get him out of the quagmire he had built around him. The nobles were angry at him; she could feel it in their gaze. They might judge her for being a Dalish mage, but she could sense that they were so desperate, they were prepared to overlook her race.

This knowledge gave her the strength to show a calm face that belied the hatred she felt. Confident, secure in herself once more, she faced Loghain with her head up and an arrogant smile on her face. Oh, how she would enjoy watching his world crumble around him!

"Grey Wardens _are_ the only ones who can end this Blight." Her voice rang out firmly. "And we will defeat this Blight as we have defeated each one since Dumat first stormed the land as an Archdemon!" Reminding them that it was Grey Wardens who had always defeated the Blights seemed to have a powerful effect; a light flutter went up through the crowd of nobles, as if they were recalling stories of the previous Blights, when the Grey Wardens had flown through the darkspawn on the backs of griffons.

She faced Loghain with contempt. "Perhaps there are some here who doubt us, but can you truly say that Loghain has done better for Ferelden? A man who allows those in his command to torture innocent victims?"

"The Warden-Commander speaks the truth!" a man shouted. All eyes turned to him, and Ashara saw him leaning on the rail of the balcony, his face contorted in rage. "My son was taken in the dead of night and tortured in Howe's dungeons! The things that were done to him... some of it is beyond any healer's skill! If not for these Grey Wardens, he might have been killed!"

"Howe went his own way," Loghain countered sharply, instantly denying knowledge of what Howe had done. He turned to Ashara with an angry glare. "But he has paid for his mistakes. You should know, Warden, as _you _were the one who killed him!"

Loghain clearly meant for this to turn the nobles against the Wardens, but Ashara felt a slight stirring from them. These nobles weren't angry that she and her allies had killed Howe. On the contrary, Ashara felt a mixture of approval and relief from them.

The evil man turned back to Ashara, his blue eyes snapping in anger. "Whatever wrong Howe has done, he should have been brought before the seneschal! There is no honor in butchering a man in his home!"

This was it, a perfect opening! Ashara lifted her chin and looked down her nose at this hateful man. "Is that so?" She swept an arm around at all the nobles, ignoring the stiffness in her shoulders. "Then you should have no problem telling these men and women how you hired a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon." Kira had told her that just the mere mention of a blood mage would set the nobles on fire.

Loghain scowled. "I assure you, Warden, if I ever _did _desire to poison someone, I certainly would not trust to the discretion of a blood mage!"

Ashara had caught him in a lie; she couldn't help the feral smile on her face. But, before she had a chance to show the papers Kira held–papers that proved Loghain authorized Marjolaine to hire Jowan–the woman from before, the one who spoke of refugees in her Bannorn, speared Loghain with a contemptuous gaze. "Is that so? My brother, the templar Irminric, tells a very different story. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Is this a coincidence?"

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain!" an old woman said harshly. Ashara guessed from her clothing that she was a sister, much like Leliana. Or perhaps a Revered Mother? "Interference with the Chantry's justice is an offense against the Maker himself!"

Loghain scowled. Ashara had thought that he would vehemently deny his actions, or perhaps balk at being caught in a lie. But, she underestimated his courage. He simply waved a hand, dismissing these accusations. "Whatever I have done, I will answer to the Maker." He turned to face Ashara. "But for the moment, I wish to know what this Grey Warden has done with my daughter!"

"What have I done?" Ashara demanded. "I protected her from you! She was kept prisoner in Howe's estate, and was so desperate she sent her servant to the Grey Wardens, begging us to save her!"

"Lies!" Loghain shouted. "You took my daughter, our Queen, killing her guards in the process! What arts have you employed to keep her? Tell me, does she even still live?"

"I believe I can speak for myself!"

Ashara recognized the voice that rang out from the back of the room. She looked behind Loghain and saw the Queen stepping out of a room that connected to the Great Hall. Ashara wasn't surprised that she had decided to show up. Anora had left Eamon's estate earlier in the day with Erlina, and hadn't told anyone where she was going, though Kira had said that Anora would not miss the Landsmeet for anything.

The nobles all sketched bows as the Queen walked towards the center of the room, but Ashara was alerted by her stance. Anora held her hands together tightly, as if afraid of something. "Noble lords and ladies, my father speaks the truth! These Grey Wardens kidnapped me and held me prisoner at Arl Eamon's estate! I might have already been killed had Erlina not managed to get me out!"

"You _dare_ to accuse us of kidnap?" Ashara demanded sharply, heat rising in her face. The nobles around all grew quiet, as if they desperately wished to hear what she had to say. "I was told that you'd turn on us when I refused to support your claim to the throne, but to accuse of us of kidnap! After what Kali and I went through to find you!"

"Oh, she turned on us!" Alistair said sarcastically. He chuckled. "Who could've guessed that would happen?"

"Please, Ashara, do not lose your temper," Kira whispered rapidly. "There will be plenty of time to bring Anora to justice, but for now you _must_ retain control!"

Ashara sucked in a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes. Kira was right; she _had_ to keep hold on her temper. But it was growing harder and harder with each passing moment. _Mythal, I beg you to help me._ She opened her eyes and faced the Queen with a sneer. "You know what? It doesn't matter." She turned from Anora as if the Queen was nothing to her, and faced the collected group of _shemlen_. She could feel her hands shaking, but did her best to keep her face composed and confident.

"It doesn't matter if Queen Anora chooses to lie about the Grey Wardens," she said firmly. "What matters is that the Blight is here and we, the Grey Wardens, are prepared to fight it!" She raised her head, looking over the wave of _shemlen_ as she recited some of the words Kira had told her to say. "Whether or not you agree to support us, the Grey Wardens are prepared to risk our lives to defeat the Archdemon! It is our duty, and we will see it done!"

The nobles grew quiet at her words, but Ashara could feel the effect she had on them. Kira had told her that if there came a time when she was backed into a corner, she was to shout that no matter what happened, the Grey Wardens would still fight the Blight. Kira believed that the nobles were longing for someone to take charge, to help relieve them of their worries.

Then, all of a sudden, a man leaned forward on the balcony and shouted clearly, "South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens!"

One by one, more of the nobles began chiming in. "Waking Sea stands with the Grey Wardens!"

"The Grey Wardens! They are the only ones who can defeat the Blight!"

"We stand with the Grey Wardens!"

"I... stand by Loghain! We have no hope without him!" Ashara frowned at the man; Kira had said that they could not expect every single noble to stand by them. Ashara worried that others would follow suit, but it seemed that only one man was willing to side with Loghain. It continued on, with everyone shouting their support for the Grey Wardens, until finally the last man spoke.

"West Hills throws their lot in with the Grey Wardens, Maker help us."

It was a powerful moment. These stupid _shemlen_, who lived like fat cats warmed by the sun, only angered when someone else came near their meals, all clapped and cheered, looking at Ashara and her friends as if they were the only ones who could save them. Ashara, who was nothing but a heathen to them, would have laughed at the irony of it, had she not been smiling at Loghain like a fox that managed to corner her prey.

"We did it!" Kira exclaimed softly, and flung her arms around Alistair. "By Andraste, we actually did it!"

"About sodding time," Aric said gruffly.

"I knew you could do it, _vulpasha_!" Tamlen said.

"What happens now?" Kali asked nervously.

Zevran looked down at her. "Now we are free to deal with Loghain, _mi querida._"

But Ashara wasn't paying attention to any of them. She took advantage of the cheers and noise to step closer to Loghain, who glared at her angrily. When she was close enough to know that he would hear her, she leaned forward and allowed herself to smile wider. "How does it feel? To know that everyone can see how you failed _spectacularly _as a leader?" Her eyes narrowed angrily. "I once promised you a slow, humiliating death for what you have done, and I swear I will see it through."

Her words seemed to snap the fragile hold he had on his sanity. He thrust her away from him and spun around madly, glaring at all of the nobles assembled, who quieted down. "Traitors! Which of _you_ stood against the Orlesian Emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?"

He spun around to face Eamon, who stood on the balcony. "You fought with us, Eamon! You cared about this land once, before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk!" He turned away, pointing a finger at everyone in the Landsmeet. Ashara wanted to laugh in delight for pushing him over the edge; now everyone could clearly see how mad he was! "None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How _dare_ you judge me!"

Ashara saw that his guards were beginning to gather around him; she gripped her staff tightly and faced him with a dark smile. "Even now you refuse to admit defeat? Well, that's fine by me! I wanted an excuse to kill you anyway!" She raised her voice so that the gathered nobles would hear. "Call off your men and fight like a man, rather than a coward who hides behind others!"

Loghain stared at her for a moment; it seemed all of the anger and rage was beginning to drain out of him. A strange sort of sadness swept over his eyes, but Ashara refused to acknowledge it. This was her chance, her moment to kill him. "Then let us end it," Loghain said. He shook his head and sighed. "I suppose we all knew it would come to this."

Ashara scowled. "When you sold my people into slavery, ordered the guards to torture my friend and me, and hunted down my companions and friends? What other option have you left me with but to kill you?"

"I have done what was necessary for the good of Ferelden." He shook his head. "When I first met you and your fellow Wardens at Ostagar, I would not have thought it would end like this. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else." He lifted his head. "A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric once told me that. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or to me."

Ashara's grip on her staff was so tight she could feel the skin on her knuckles turning white. "I assure you, _seth'lin sha, _it is a compliment to you. Now, do you have the stomach for a fight, or do you intend to keep talking?"

Loghain scowled, but apparently decided to ignore her taunt. Instead, he pointed to the woman standing on the balcony. "Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

The woman nodded. "It shall be fought according to tradition. A test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome."

"Prepare yourself," Loghain said to Ashara, "and then we shall begin." He walked over to the side of the room, where his men were holding his sword and shield.

Ashara turned back to her companions, who swarmed around her. "You're not going to fight him?" Tamlen demanded sharply.

"Of course I am!" Ashara raised an eyebrow. "I am the Warden-Commander, aren't I? It's my duty to fight on behalf of the Wardens." She couldn't help the note of elation in her voice. She had been dreaming about this moment for two days, since she had been brought back from Fort Drakon. She couldn't wait to kill him.

"No," Tamlen said simply. "I won't allow it. You still haven't even fully healed; you'll be killed."

Kali twisted her hands together nervously. "Um, Asha, I think Tamlen might have a point. I-I'm still... well, if you feel like me... I mean, I don't think you should do this..."

Ashara scowled at them all. Who did they think she was? Some weak _shemlen_ who couldn't fight because of a little pain? Sure, the muscles in her shoulders were stiff and shook slightly when she exerted them, and her wrists still ached, but none of that should be a problem. She still had her magic.

Kira straightened up, looking more serious than Ashara had ever seen. "Ashara, you have named me as your Second, have you not?"

Ashara hesitated. "Yes..."

"Then, as your Second, I am telling you not to do this!" Her eyes narrowed angrily. "Do not throw away _everything _we have worked for because of your anger! If you do this, if you fight Loghain because of your pride, I will be forced to relieve you of command."

Ashara stared at her as if she had never seen her before. "What?"

Kira's eyes looked genuinely apologetic, but still she kept the firm look on her face. "Andraste forgive me for ever saying such words to you, but if you throw away all that we have done for the sake of your pride, you are no longer fit to lead the Wardens."

"So, because I am angry at Loghain for torturing Kali and me, that means I can't fight him?" Ashara scowled. "Don't you think I have more of a right to fight him?"

The Orlesian Warden shook her head. "It is not only that. Your anger has clouded your judgment. Think, Ashara! We have already discussed this! Even if you were completely healthy, even if you had no personal grudge against Loghain, we _still_ could not let you fight!" She spoke swiftly, as Loghain was slowly making his way back to the center of the room. "You are a Dalish mage who has never been in the Tower, and the Chantry is here! They will overlook what you are since the Blight is a greater threat, but if you defeat Loghain with your magic, the nobles might think that you cheated. You know most humans fear mages!"

Ashara's heart pounded in her chest, growing more frantic with each word that Kira spoke. Was she right? She had said that perhaps it would be better for someone else to fight Loghain, but Ashara hadn't really taken her words seriously. Was it anger that clouded her judgment?

She lowered her head. What would Marethari have said if she could see Ashara like this? With a pain, Ashara realized that the Keeper would have said the exact same thing as Kira. A Keeper must remain detached, they must think of the greater good for the Clan, not just themselves. Marethari would be disappointed in Ashara's behavior.

Loghain came to stand in the very center of the room, holding his sword and shield. "Let us begin, Warden!" Ashara turned to look at him. "Will you face me yourself, or do you have a champion?"

Ashara found herself speaking without even thinking about her words. "I choose Tamlen, my fellow Warden. He will fight on my behalf." Once the words were out, she instantly wished she could snatch them back. This was supposed to be _her_ moment, her one chance to bring Loghain to justice.

But there was nothing she could do now. Looking immensely relieved, Tamlen picked up his longsword and shield from where they had been sitting at his feet. Before he walked to Loghain he turned and knelt down in front of Ashara, as if they were back at the Clan and he was kneeling before the Keeper. "_Ma serannas_ for letting me do this for you," he said softly. "I won't fail you, _vulpasha_."

No, he wouldn't. She knew that. But that didn't make her feel any better about the situation, though she could see that it was her own anger that caused her to feel that way. Tamlen was a very capable fighter. What made her think _she _was the only one who could fight Loghain?

In an effort to hide her feelings, she stretched out her hand and placed it on the top of his head, in the traditional sign of a blessing. It was the gesture that the Keeper always did for the hunters when they left to protect the Clan. "_Andruil elvarana na'terah, _Tamlen."

He gave her a brief smile and stood up. The smile faded as he turned towards Loghain, his shoulders stiff with anger. As one of the nobles shouted for the duel to begin, Ashara noticed Kali moving to stand next to her.

"Asha, are you okay?" the little rogue asked.

Ashara never took her eyes off Tamlen. He was lithe and swift in his attacks, which gave him an instant advantage over Loghain, whose heavy armor slowed his movements. However, that heavy armor made it much harder for Tamlen to wound him.

"_I _wanted to be the one to fight him," Ashara said quietly. "After everything he has done to us, I wanted to be the one who killed him." Kali looked at her in perfect understanding, but there was nothing she could say.

Loghain swept his sword around and almost brought it down right on top of Tamlen's head. Ashara took in a sharp breath, nervous that Tamlen had been hit, but suddenly Tamlen was gone from the spot. He moved to fast for Loghain to catch him; he slid under Loghain's arm, twisted around, and thrust his shield forward, catching the old man off balance.

Ashara could see him looking for a weak spot, and then he found one: the underside of Loghain's arm was dangerously exposed. Quick as a flash, Tamlen brought his sword up and sliced through the exposed part of Loghain's arm. Ashara heard the old man shout as he dropped his shield.

Before he had time to adjust to this new wound, Tamlen dove around the old man and knocked him back. Loghain fell to the ground and suddenly Tamlen was on top of him, his shield dropped, his sword pointed at Loghain's throat.

"I yield," Loghain said calmly, looking up at Tamlen as if completely unperturbed by the sword at his throat.

Tamlen looked down at him. "You're going to die for what you've done."

A gasp went up through the crowd, and Anora rushed forward from where she had been watching near the back of the room. "You can't do that!" She fell on her knees next to her father and looked up at Tamlen pleadingly. "My father may have committed wrongs, but he does not deserve death!"

"Just as Ashara and Kali did not deserve to be tortured," Tamlen replied, his words clipped. Before anyone had time to say or do anything, he plunged the tip of his sword into Loghain's throat.

"NO! FATHER!" Anora flung herself on Loghain's body as Tamlen stood up and turned back to Ashara and the others, never once looking back.

Arl Eamon walked down the stairs from the balcony and came to stand beside Alistair and Kira. He nodded his head towards Loghain's body. "Loghain has now paid for his crimes." He turned to face the rest of the nobles. "So it has been decided. Alistair shall take his father's throne, and we shall follow the Grey Wardens into battle!"

"When was that decided?" Anora demanded. She wiped the tears from her eyes, stood up from her father's body, though everyone could see the effort it took her, and turned a hard face to Eamon. "It is my throne, and I will not hand it over to a Warden!"

Tamlen walked over to Ashara, ignoring Eamon and Anora going back and forth like two _da'len_ fighting over a toy. He didn't try to pull her into an embrace, for which Ashara was extremely grateful, but he did grasp her hands and hold them tightly. "I told you I wouldn't fail."

For the first time since she had come back from Fort Drakon, Ashara felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Justice had been served; Loghain was dead. He could never again harm another person; he could never again authorize torture. "I knew you wouldn't, _emma'lath_."

"Warden-Commander!" Eamon suddenly said.

She turned to him slowly, unable to think of anything except her joy in Loghain's death. She wanted to stare at the corpse, to crow over his body and stomp on his face so that his Maker would be unable to recognize him. "What?"

Eamon looked irritated, giving Ashara the impression that he had expected her to pay attention to him and Anora bickering like old women. "You are to choose who will sit on the throne!"

Ashara looked around to see everyone staring at her expectantly, and had a hard time keeping the smile off her face. She couldn't really understand why they looked so solemn. Couldn't they see that the threat was gone? She wanted to collapse into laughter, to prance around the hall. Loghain was dead! He was dead, dead, dead! He could never again hurt her or Kali.

But, she saw Kira's warning look and tried to keep her face solemn. She pointed a finger at Alistair and recited the words Kira had told her to say. "Alistair Theirin, son of King Maric, will be the King of Ferelden. With him on the throne, the Grey Wardens shall follow your King into battle!" Kira had thought it best that Ashara not proclaim her as Queen just yet. Once the Blight was ended, and the nobles were happy, Alistair could announce his intentions to marry her, but for the moment it would be better to not shock the nobles by announcing an Orlesian Queen.

The Hall erupted into cheers; Alistair flushed a dull red and rubbed the back of his neck, looking extremely nervous. Eamon turned to Anora with a firm look. "Anora, you must now give up your claim to the throne."

The ex-queen pulled her eyes away from her father's body. Everyone could see the tears threatening to spill, but she managed to keep her head up and cross her arms. "If you expect me to do that, then you know nothing about me, Eamon."

Kira leaned towards Alistair and said quietly, "She will not rest until she has taken back her throne. If you are to be King, you must do something about her."

Alistair nodded, his resolve strengthening with Kira's hand on his arm. "Guards, take her to the dungeons for now. If I die against the Blight, she can have her throne. If I survive... then we'll see."

Anora studied him, ignoring the guards that surrounded her. To Ashara, it looked as though the ex-queen was having a hard time forming her thoughts. "You would give me a chance at the throne after all?"

"I said _if_ I die, Anora. If," Alistair said dryly. "I won't take the risk of abandoning Ferelden without a leader."

"And what will you do if you survive?" Anora asked, her voice steady.

Alistair faced her. "We will decide that later."

Ashara watched as Anora's eyes traveled over Alistair's companions, all of whom watched her with unveiled anger. The ex-queen knew exactly what would happen if Alistair survived the Blight. He might not want to kill her, but Ashara could tell from the look on Anora's face that she realized Alistair's friends would convince him to go through with it.

The guards pulled Anora away, while Eamon faced Alistair with a smug look on his face. "Your Highness, will you address these lords here gathered?"

Alistair jumped slightly. "Oh! Yes! I suppose I should do that, shouldn't I?" He turned to face the nobles. "Um, I never knew my brother, but from everything I've heard, he was a good man, a good leader, and a good king. I–"

"Just tell them what to do, pike twirler," Aric growled.

"I was just getting to that! Uh, the Grey Wardens will begin the march to Redcliffe at dawn, and the Royal Army will join us." Amidst the cheers of the nobles, Alistair lifted his head higher. "Together, we will defeat the Blight and send that Archdemon back to the Void where it came from!"

oOo

Kali sat on the stuffed couch in her room and studied Ashara closely as the Dalish woman sat at the table and ground some herbs in a bowl with much more force than necessary. She had thought that Ashara would be happy. The Landsmeet was over, and Loghain was dead. It was exactly what Ashara wanted. For a little while it did, actually, seem as though Ashara was elated, but after they left the Landsmeet and came back to Eamon's estate, the joy began to drain out of her, leaving her just as snippy and morose as before.

Tamlen and Zevran had left the estate, claiming that they had some unfinished business to attend to, and Ashara and Kali had taken the opportunity to shut themselves away in Kali's room. Everyone else was drinking and celebrating their victory at the Landsmeet, but Kali and Ashara hadn't felt like joining. They both just wanted a quiet place to relax, away from everyone else.

Kali pulled her feet up on the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees, wanting to take advantage of this privacy. "Asha, are you... still angry? About... what happened at Fort Drakon?" Since her voice was lowered, part of her hoped that Ashara hadn't heard her. She wasn't sure what Ashara would say about it, and she didn't want to make her friend angry, but part of her desperately needed to talk. Who better than the only other person who knew what it felt like?

Ashara lowered the pestle she had been using to grind the herbs, and looked at Kali sadly. "Do you really want to talk about it, _ashalan_? If you don't it's... fine."

Kali buried her nose against her knees. "Well... it's just that this is the first time we've been alone since... since Zevran and Tamlen brought us back. I just... I wondered what you thought about it," she finished lamely. In reality, Kali wanted to know if Ashara was having nightmares like she was. She wanted to know if Ashara jumped every time a shadow moved, as if those guards might suddenly appear and drag her back to the dungeon. Kali knew that the men who had done those things were dead, but that didn't stop her from being afraid of them.

For a moment, Kali thought that Ashara might refuse to answer. But then, she pushed the bowl away from her and looked down at her hands. "I do think about it... all the time." She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. "I try not to. I try to tell myself that the guards didn't break us or kill us. We're alive. That's the only important thing. But... sometimes when I close my eyes, or if I wake up in bed and its dark, I have a moment when I'm almost afraid to find myself back there."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I had thought that killing Loghain would make me feel better. I had thought that if he died, everything would go back to normal. But after we left the Landsmeet, I realized that nothing had changed. He was dead; I had my revenge but, I still... can't seem to escape the thoughts."

Kali felt more relieved than she could have guessed to hear Ashara's words. It wasn't that she was happy that Ashara was still suffering; that wasn't it at all. What Kali was grateful for, was the knowledge that she wasn't the only one who constantly thought about it. "Do you... think we'll ever forget what happened?" she whispered.

"I don't know. Probably not." Ashara stood up from the table and came to sit next to Kali on the couch. "But, maybe in time, it won't be so hard to deal with. The memory is still fresh, and we're still dealing with the aches and pains from it. That makes it harder to push it away."

"What am I supposed to say to Zevran?" Kali hesitated, but she had a burning need to talk to Ashara. "I... want to tell him that I'm not angry at him, but every time I try, I can't seem to say it." She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against her knees. "He barely even talks to me; its like he's trying to stay away from me. But I know he thinks I blame him and he's upset. _I _made him think that!"

Ashara pulled her legs up on the couch and crossed them in front of her. "I don't know what to tell you, _ashalan_. It's not like Tamlen and I are a shining example of what to do right now."

"What do you mean?"

Ashara lowered her eyes. "I've been... mean to him. Every time he tries to ask me if I'm all right, I tell myself to be nice and just tell him that I'm okay, but I end up snapping at him for no reason. Every time I see him I instantly get annoyed." She shook her head. "Today, at the Landsmeet, part of me was angry that he fought Loghain, even though I knew it was the right choice! Only _after _he killed Loghain was I able to be nicer to him, but that was only because I was so happy Loghain was dead! And then, when we left the Landsmeet I went right back to being mean to him."

She rubbed her temples. "You're the only one I'll tell this to, _ashalan_, but sometimes it feels like I'm trapped outside of my body, watching myself do and say things that I wish I could take back."

Kali nodded, understanding perfectly. She felt like that at times too, when she wanted to talk to Zevran, or tell him that she just wanted him to sit with her so she wouldn't be alone. It felt like there was a ghostly hand clamping on her throat, keeping her silent. It wasn't like she blamed him for what happened, right? She knew that he had had no choice but to let Aric pull him away, and he had come back for her. So, why did she have such a hard time talking to him?

She took in a deep breath. "Do you think we're going to be okay, Asha?"

Ashara leaned back against the couch. "I don't know." She turned to Kali with a sad smile. "But, at least we're in this together. No matter what."

oOo

"See? I told you it would work," Zevran said. He stood near a small table, grinning smugly and pointing at the guard.

Tamlen stepped out from his hiding spot in the shadows and walked to the guard, who was passed out over the table. "What did you give him? I've never seen a sleeping potion work that swiftly before."

"It is a recipe from the Crows, my friend. One never knows when they must put someone to sleep quickly."

"Good thing he didn't recognize you from the Landsmeet. By _Andruil_, are all the guards in this palace incompetent?"

"That is something Alistair shall have to rectify." Zevran picked up the empty bottle of sleeping draft and slipped it into his pocket. "Now then, keep watch while I pick this lock."

Tamlen nodded and kept an eye out while Zevran bent over the lock to Anora's cell, though there didn't seem to be much of a reason for it; the corridor was almost completely empty of guards. With Alistair chosen as the new King of Ferelden, no one seemed to care what happened to Anora. In fact, the guards had only put one man to stand guard at her cell door, and he had been bored out of his mind. It had been an easy enough matter for Zevran to pretend to be an elven servant bringing a cup of wine, laced with a sleeping potion, of course.

The two men had decided, from the moment Ashara and Kali had been brought back from Fort Drakon, that they would not allow Anora to survive for what she had done. Kira had been able to force them to wait while the woman was still Queen of Ferelden, but now that Alistair had taken the throne, there was no reason to delay.

It was true that Alistair wished to keep Anora alive until after the Blight, but Tamlen and Zevran weren't concerned by that. They had no doubt that everyone would do their best to make sure Alistair avoided fighting the Archdemon, to increase his chances of survival, so there didn't seem to be much of a reason to keep Anora alive. Of course, it couldn't be denied that Tamlen and Zevran were only really thinking of vengeance. They would leave for Redcliffe in the morning; this was their last chance to bring that _shemlen_ bitch to justice.

"There we are," Zevran said. Before he opened the door he turned to Tamlen. "Once inside, I will have to move swiftly before she can shout. If she slips past me, you must be prepared to catch her."

Tamlen nodded, and Zevran pushed the door open. In the darkened cell, they could barely see the outline of Anora as the woman stood up from the bed, her body silhouetted by the moon shining through the window. It was obvious that she had not been able to sleep, which would have made their task easier.

"Who is there?" the ex-queen demanded.

Neither of them answered. Instead, Zevran rushed toward the woman and pinned her against the wall, using one hand to cover her mouth and the other to cover her nose. Tamlen could hear her muffled shouts as she kicked and flailed and tried to get away. But Zevran knew how this was done; unable to breath, she soon stopped struggling. Tamlen watched her body slump over.

"Is she unconscious?" Tamlen asked.

"That she is," Zevran remarked smugly.

"Good. Now help me get this sheet set up."

The two men moved silently and swiftly. Though it was true that Anora was no longer Queen, they had decided that it would not be prudent for her murder to look obvious. Far better to make it look as though she had taken her own life. She had kept her head up when the Landsmeet sided against her, but everyone had been able to see how devastated she was over her father's death, and everyone knew what would happen to her if Alistair survived the Blight. It should be easy enough for Alistair, and the nobles, to assume that Anora had just given up on life.

They took the sheet off the bed and twisted it tightly, fashioning it into a type of rope before flinging it over the beam near the roof. With Anora still unconscious, it was an easy enough matter to tie one end of the sheet around her neck. They pulled the sheet, lifting her body up, and tied the other end tightly around the post of the bed.

The two men watched, silently, as the black form that was the ex-queen writhed and jerked as the life was choked out of her. Eventually, she grew still, and their task was done.

Tamlen felt a savage thrill as they left the dungeon and Zevran reset the lock. They might not be able to do much for Ashara and Kali, but they could do this. Ashara got mad every time Tamlen tried to talk to her, and according to Zevran, Kali completely avoided being around him. They might not be able to help the women deal with what had happened to them, but they could kill the one responsible.

Secure that the guards would not find Anora until the morning, and that they would think she had killed herself, the two men left the dungeon.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Andruil elvarana na'terah - May Andruil guide your attacks<br>ashalan - lit: woman of the blood; sister  
>da'len - childchildren  
>seth'lin sha - lit: thin-blooded man; coward<br>emma'lath - my love  
><em>

_**A/N:** Tamlen's fight with Loghain was short, but the only reason I did that was because the chapter was already getting to be long. So I cut out a lot of the drama I had written, and just went over the important things. I hope it was still believable.  
><em>

_Lots of thanks to Shakespira, who had previously told me how important it was for Kali and Ashara to talk to each other about what happened at Fort Drakon. She gave me the advice that they need to admit, at least to each other, how they are feeling, although for now, they don't completely understand why they're acting like they do.  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, and requesting alerts!_


	45. Save Tonight

_Lots of thanks to Kira Tamarion for her swift, awesome beta work, and her suggestions that helped me find my motivation again_

* * *

><p><strong>Save Tonight<strong>

The Landsmeet was concluded. Alistair was accepted as the King of Ferelden, and the Royal Army was free to join the Grey Wardens in their battle against the Archdemon. They marched out the very next day, eager to return to Redcliffe and start preparations for the battle, acutely aware of the fact that this was their one chance to draw the Archdemon out, to fight it on a ground of their choosing and end this cursed Blight.

It took them a little over a week to travel back to Redcliffe and the moment Ashara set foot in the castle, all thoughts of the Blight were wiped from her mind. She kicked up her heels and flew through the large estate, not bothering to acknowledge Marethari and Rhys–or to even wonder what they were doing in the castle. She rushed straight up the stairs, her pace quickening until she was running down the halls, and flung open the doors to her room–scaring Tiatha–before practically throwing herself at the baby bed.

Ashara could have wept to see how big Anyu had gotten in the three long weeks she had been away. Her little daughter was almost six weeks old now–almost two months! Ashara picked her up and held her close, inhaling the sweet baby scent of her hair, enjoying the soft feel of her face, and the gentle weight of her little body. Oh, she had missed her so much!

Anyu gurgled in delight at the attention, raised her pale eyebrows, and determinedly clutched some of Ashara's hair. She grasped the black tendrils tightly and twisted them around her chubby little fist, as if wanting to prove that she could hold on tightly. But Ashara didn't mind the painful feel of her hair being yanked; she stared down in her daughter's dark blue eyes, wanting to drown out everything but the presence of her daughter.

"Welcome back, _lethallan_," Tiatha said hesitantly, setting her sewing aside as she stood up from the couch. "We were told that you were on your way from Denerim, but we did not know when to expect you."

Ashara turned to the woman, but couldn't pull her eyes from her daughter. She winced as Anyu played happily with her long hair, yanking any strand she could find. "I was surprised, and a bit confused, when the _Elvhenan_ outside of Redcliffe told me that you had taken Anyu back to the castle," Ashara said, with the hint of annoyance in her voice. She had almost panicked when the Dalish informed her that Anyu had been taken to the castle.

Tiatha shifted her feet anxiously. "Yes, there has been a... discovery. Keeper Marethari and Keeper Rhys thought it best to come back to the castle to wait for you and your fellow Wardens."

Ashara frowned, alerted by Tiatha's fidgeting. "What's wrong?"

"I believe the Keepers should explain the situation."

"I knew you would have rushed right up here." Ashara and Tiatha looked towards the door, where Tamlen was walking in with a small smile on his face. He nodded politely to Tiatha before turning his attention to Ashara. "Keepers Marethari and Rhys are down in the hall with the others; they said they have something important to tell us, but you had already disappeared."

"I wanted to see Anyu," Ashara said defensively. When the Dalish had told her that Tiatha had taken Anyu back to the castle, Ashara had immediately thought the worst. In the time it took them to travel from the Dalish camp to Redcliffe, she had envisioned a whole plethora of problems. She had feared that Anyu was sick, or that she had gotten hurt.

Tamlen nodded. "I understand, and so do the others, but we do have much to do." He planted a light kiss on Anyu's head, but she was too busy kicking her feet and playing with Ashara's hair to pay any attention. "She's gotten so big! Is she eating well?" he asked Tiatha.

The young mother nodded, smiling fondly at Anyu. "She is, _lethallin_. She's always hungry, it seems."

Ashara smiled down at her daughter. "I'll take her downstairs while we talk with the others." She needed to spend as much time with Anyu as possible.

Tiatha nodded. "I'll take Seith back to my room, and fit him for some new clothing." She walked over to the second baby bed and picked up her little son. "I swear on _Mythal's _shield, every month I have to make new clothes for him; he outgrows them so fast!"

Tamlen said something in reply, but Ashara wasn't paying attention. She couldn't pull her eyes away from Anyu; she traced her miniature ears with a light finger, caressed her plump cheeks.

"Come on, _vulpasha_," Tamlen said, guiding her out of the room and down the stairs.

"She's such a beautiful baby, isn't she?" Ashara asked, unable to focus on anything else but the child in her arms. She felt better than she had in weeks; she felt more complete, more whole. For a moment, it was like the horrible events at Fort Drakon had never happened.

"Just like her mother," Tamlen replied sweetly, but Ashara didn't hear him.

The two made their way down the Grand Hall, where the rest of their companions were waiting with Teagan, Eamon, Marethari, and Rhys. Everyone looked immensely relieved to see Tamlen with Ashara.

"We were waiting for you, Warden-Commander," Eamon said impatiently.

Ashara shrugged, unapologetic. "I had to see my daughter."

Kali fluttered over and smiled at the sight of Anyu, who was peering around at all of them as if she couldn't quite understand why there were so many people gathered. "Anyu!" the little rogue exclaimed, smiling cheerfully for the first time since Fort Drakon. The baby reached to grab at Kali, who giggled and let Anyu grasp her pinky.

"Well, now that everyone is gathered," Rhys said with a polite nod towards Ashara, "there is much we have to discuss." He exchanged a glance with Marethari. "Our hunters have informed us that the darkspawn are finally on the move. They are traveling north; towards Denerim, it appears."

A sharp silence, so heavy it felt like a tangible being, greeted his words. Kira placed her hands on the center table and leaned forward, a frown on her delicate face. "Why did you not inform us while we were traveling from Denerim? We could have turned around!" She closed her eyes for a brief moment, though everyone could see how frustrated she was. Ashara didn't bother to interrupt her, however, since she was wondering the very same thing.

"It is my understanding," the Orlesian Warden continued, "that Keepers such as yourselves have ways of conveying information to one another. Could you not have told Ashara?"

Marethari nodded, untroubled by the exasperation that went up through Ashara's companions. "That is very true, _da'len_, but our hunters only returned to us yesterday. By the time Rhys and I had the information," she spread her hands, "you were already close to Redcliffe. We decided that the best option was to wait."

"You said the darkspawn are traveling north?" Wynne questioned. "We saw no sign of them on our way here."

"They are traveling through the Brecilian Forest," Rhys explained. "It is a deep and ancient forest, the perfect place for them to hide and cover their movements." He looked around the room with an air of pain. "That is why it took our hunters so long to find a pattern in their tracks; they move slowly and in an unorganized fashion."

"There is more than this," Marethari said. Everyone looked at her with a mixture of apprehension and fear. She raised her chin higher, the Dalish sign of demanding full attention. "The Archdemon has finally shown itself."

If the silence before had been heavy, this time it was so palpable Ashara almost imagined it was a spell that had frozen everyone in place. Even Anyu quieted down.

"The Archdemon?" Kali whispered in horror. "It's really here? It's really come?"

"Our hunters have seen it," Marethari confirmed.

"So," Aric said with a defeated sigh, "we've lost our chance to draw it out on our own terms."

Ashara shook her head and straightened up, covering her shock at this change of events with a mask of serene confidence. "We always knew that it was a long shot, Aric." She looked around at her companions; she was their leader, it was her job to keep them calm and secure in their plans. "This changes nothing."

"It changes everything!" Eamon practically shouted. "We had thought to use the surrounding areas to draw it out, to fight it without risking the villages! If the darkspawn are on the move to Denerim, we must get there with all haste!"

Kira pursed her lips in annoyance. "There is no need to raise your voice, Arl Eamon." She turned to Ashara. "What are your orders, Commander?" she asked, with a hint of guilt in her voice. Since the Landsmeet, when Ashara had let Tamlen fight Loghain, it seemed that Kira's threat to remove Ashara from command had been settled. Or at the very least, she didn't bring it up again. Instead, she constantly deferred to Ashara or asked her opinion, as if she felt bad she had threatened Ashara in first place, and wanted to prove that she trusted her leadership.

"Teagan," Ashara said, falling securely into the comfortable rhythm of command, "has the army been preparing to march?" They had left Teagan with strict instructions to prepare the army, in case of a situation like this.

The nobleman nodded. "We are as prepared as we are likely to be."

"When can we move?" Kira asked.

"Once I send the order, we can leave at first light."

Ashara handed Anyu over to Kali and turned to look at the two Keepers. "Were the hunters able to judge how long it will take the darkspawn to reach Denerim?"

Rhys nodded. "As of yesterday, the hunters estimated that it should take them at least five days to reach Denerim, if they keep at their current pace."

Alistair sighed and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "We'll never make it in time. Even if we push ourselves as fast as we can, it'll take us at least six days to get to Denerim."

Ashara lifted her head higher, assuming a commanding air. "Well, we're not about to just give up now; we'll have to make due with the situation as it is. Teagan, go tell the army to prepare. We're going to leave at daybreak; they had better be ready." The nobleman quickly left the room while Ashara turned to the rest of her companions. "The same goes for you; get everything ready as quickly as you can and make sure to get plenty of rest. We'll be getting up before first light."

Everyone in the room began to disperse, but Ashara caught sight of Eamon pulling Alistair over to the side of the room with a look on his face that suggested he didn't want to be overheard. Cleverly, Ashara paused at the table with Kali, under the pretense of admiring Anyu, to listen. Elven ears were far more sensitive than humans; she heard the two men as clearly as if they were standing beside her.

"Alistair, you are now King of Ferelden," Eamon said rapidly in an undertone. "I urge you to stay here; you cannot risk your life in battle, especially now that Anora has taken her own life. If, Maker forbid, you should die, you leave Ferelden without a leader!"

Ashara ducked her head to hide her scowl at the mention of the dead queen. After Anora's body had been discovered, Tamlen had told her everything that he and Zevran had done. Initially she was angry with him–who was he to just decide that she wanted Anora dead? But after much thought, she conceded that she _did _want that _shemlen_ bitch to die. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to get the opportunity herself, what with planning for the Blight, but she had so longed to be the one to kill Anora, since she was robbed of the chance to kill Loghain.

"I don't care," Alistair retorted sharply, sounding harsher than Ashara had ever imagined him to be. "I may be King, but I'm also a Grey Warden. Once the Blight is over I will quit the Wardens, as I agreed, but until then it's my job to help fight the Blight. I'm not about to abandon my fellow Wardens on the battlefield."

"I urge you to reconsider," Eamon persisted; Ashara could hear the desperation in his voice. "What is Ferelden to do if the worst should happen?"

Ashara subtly glanced back to see Alistair draw himself up to his full height. "And what will my men think if I were to turn tail and hide? I will not keep myself safe over the lives of others."

Eamon looked as though he wanted to argue further, but Alistair held a hand up, ending the conversation. "No, Eamon." He tried to smile. "There's no need to worry; I'm not going to charge at the Archdemon by myself, you know. We'll be prepared. I won't take needless risks, but I'm not going to abandon the field."

Ashara turned back to Anyu and smiled to herself. She was glad to see Alistair stand up for himself; especially glad to see him put that pathetic nobleman in his place.

"Ow... A-Anyu, ouch!" Kali suddenly gasped. Ashara saw Anyu catch hold of Kali's golden curls and reached out to hold her while the little rogue lightly pulled the baby's hands away from her hair. She straightened up, rubbing the spot on her head. "Well, at least she has a strong grip. That will remind me to never stick my face near her again." She hesitated. "But... is it normal for babies to grab like that at such a young age?"

Ashara beamed, unable to hide her pride. "It just means that she's growing faster than most babies."

Kali glanced up at her. "I can tell how happy you are to see her."

"I am." Ashara ran a hand over her daughter's white hair. "I missed her so much."

Kali smiled widely, but before she got the chance to say anything a soft voice interrupted them.

"Ashara, Kali, may I have a moment of your time?"

Both women looked over to see Marethari standing by the table. Evidently, she hadn't left with Rhys and the others, but Ashara had been too busy listening to Eamon and Alistair, and then absorbed with Anyu, to pay attention.

There was something about Marethari's solemn face that worried Ashara. "What's wrong, Keeper?"

Marethari smoothed down the front of her robe and studied Anyu, being propped up on the table by Kali, who took care to keep her hair out of the baby's reach. Ashara was alerted by the Keeper's gesture; Marethari was never one to fidget. She instantly knew that whatever it was the Keeper wished to talk about, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Tamlen has spoken to me of what happened while you were in Denerim," Marethari said quietly.

Ashara inhaled sharply. "When did he tell you?" she demanded. Why, _why _did he keep doing things? What on Thedas possessed him to make all of these decisions on his own? First killing Anora, and now talking to Marethari. Ashara wanted to rage at him, to shake the arrogance out of him. Who was he to decide everything for her?

The Keeper raised her wise eyes to Ashara's face. "Just a moment ago, when the others departed. He pulled me aside and told me what happened."

"What did he tell you?" Kali whispered nervously.

Marethari looked between the two of them. "He told me enough. It is what he did not say that concerns me. From what I gather, it is clear that you are not healing." The Keeper's eyes shifted to a dark color; she looked between the women as if she could see into their very souls. Ashara shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Even I can see that something has changed," Marethari continued, speaking in the low, rough voice that seers often used. "You hold yourselves inward, as if you wish to put out the thoughts. Locking a memory away is not how you heal."

Ashara scowled, irritated by Marethari's words. She was sick of everyone telling her what to do. "Forgive me, Keeper, but this really isn't your business."

The hard face of the seer dissolved into the caring face of the Keeper who so loved her Clan. "Of course it is, _da'len_. I care for you both."

Kali stared down at Anyu, her eyes narrowed and her mouth a firm line. "I don't want to sound rude, but Ashara's right. We'll be fine, Keeper."

Marethari was silent for a moment, looking between the two women as if to judge their determination. Then, she sighed. "Very well. I cannot make you do or say anything you are not comfortable with. But take care to understand that no matter how hard you try you cannot pretend nothing happened. There are burdens that cannot be carried alone; it is no shame to allow another to help you." She rubbed her temple. "That is all I have to say. Should you need me, you will find me with the Clans, helping them prepare to leave at first light."

Without another word, she turned and left the room, with Ashara and Kali frowning after her.

oOo

Later that evening, Kali sat in Ashara's room and bounced Anyu playfully on her knee, unable to keep the indulgent smile off her face while the baby squealed in delight. Anyu was such an adorable little girl! There was something about her that just drew Kali like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was just that she was a baby, and Kali had always loved babies.

But even Kali could see that Anyu wasn't like the other babies she had known. Wynne had said that because elven children were smaller than humans, they grew at a slower pace for the first year or two. She had told Kali that it took an elven baby longer to lift their head, to start crawling or sit up on their own.

But Anyu seemed to grow much faster than human babies. She was only six weeks, though she looked as though she was near to three months, and she could already grasp and pull at things that dangled in front of her. She didn't have the firm grip of a toddler, and occasionally she missed her target, but she still curled her little fist up and twisted anything she could grab. And it seemed to Kali that she was actually aware of what was going on around her.

Her little face lit up whenever she saw Ashara or Kali; she reached out to them as if she instinctively knew that they would always pick her up. If Kali held her still for too long, she would start kicking her little feet, as if to signal that she wanted to be bounced up and down. She would peer inquisitively at their other companions; it almost seemed to Kali as though she could actually recognize other people.

Well, Kali told herself, it didn't matter if Anyu was growing at a faster pace than other children. Everyone agreed that she was strong and healthy; that was the only important thing. And when Kali helped to take care of her, or listened to the sounds she made, she could forget about Fort Drakon, even if it was just for a moment. Being with Anyu made her feel like nothing bad had ever happened in her life.

She grinned as Anyu let out a giant yawn, and held the baby in the crook of her arm to let her relax, turning her attention to Ashara, who stood at the table peering down at a map of Denerim, with Alistair and Kira on either side of her. They were discussing different ways to get to the Archdemon, since there was a good chance that it would be surrounded on all sides by darkspawn. It wasn't like they'd be able to just walk up to it.

Kira traced a finger over part of the map, though Kali couldn't see what she was pointing to. "I believe that luring the Archdemon to the top of Fort Drakon might represent our best chance at slaying it."

Kali instantly stiffened at the mention of the fort, but with no one paying attention to her she was able to act like nothing was bothering her. She saw Ashara close her eyes briefly and open them again before Alistair or Kira could notice.

"You want to draw it up there?" Alistair questioned curiously, not paying attention to either Ashara or Kali.

The Orlesian Warden nodded, never taking her eyes off the map. "It is a flying creature. I doubt it will do more than circle around the city and attack from the sky. If we can climb to the top of Fort Drakon, we should be in a position to lure it away from the others. Our taint will draw it to us like a beacon, especially if we are all together; if we can lure it up there, I believe we shall have a chance at killing it without dozens of darkspawn swarming around us."

Kali looked up from the yawning baby. "What about the rest of the darkspawn on the ground? Shouldn't we do something about them too?"

Kira shook her head. "We must spend our time focusing on the Archdemon. Records of the previous Blights tell us that once it is dead, the rest of the darkspawn will retreat." She rested her hands on the table and leaned forward, looking around at them. "We four, as well as Tamlen and Aric, are the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden, the only ones who can kill the Archdemon. Because of that, we cannot risk our lives on the common darkspawn."

Ashara bit her thumbnail thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose you're right. We can send the bulk of our army to deal with the darkspawn in the city, and only a few men can help us reach the Archdemon."

She looked down at the map and pointed to different areas, though Kali couldn't see. "We should send our men here, here, and... here. The mages can be spread out amongst the army; those who can heal will be placed away from the battle, ready to tend the wounded, while those who can attack can join the others." She pursed her lips. "I think it's fair to say that at least a few of the men will become tainted, won't they?"

Kira nodded sadly. "Unfortunately, I do not see how to avoid it."

"Well, after the battle we'll have to round them up and put them through the Joining," Ashara decided. Her hand moved across the map. "The Dalish can be spread out along the battlements. Most of our hunters use arrows; they stay up there and pick off as many darkspawn as possible. Those who prefer to use swords can stay with the rest of the army."

"What about the Dalish mages?" Kira asked.

Ashara hesitated. "Rhys told me that he'll fight along side our army, and said that Keeper Soora plans to lead her hunters into battle, but I don't know about Lanaya, Marethari, or the Firsts. I suspect that the Firsts, at least, will stay behind."

"Why wouldn't they help us?" Alistair asked. "The Blight threatens them too!"

Ashara lifted her chin. "If both the Keeper and First die, the Clan has no one to protect them. The Clan either dies out, or the members disperse and join up with other Clans." She shook her dark head vigorously. "Not even during a Blight would the Clans risk such a thing."

"It should not matter much," Kira remarked, looking down at the map. "And it is good to prepare for our victory; that will help their hunters feel more at ease." She nodded, as if coming to the end of a hard piece of work. "Very well; I shall relay this information to Teagan. Tomorrow evening, when we set up camp, we can sit down with the dwarven leaders, the templars, and the Keepers to discuss this." She rolled up the map and glanced coyly at Alistair. "Alistair, dear, would you care to join me while I go find Bann Teagan?"

"Actually, Kira," Ashara said quietly, "I had something I need to discuss with him."

The Orlesian Warden blinked in surprise. "Oh. Very well, then."

Kali thought that Alistair seemed just as confused as Kira did, and she looked down at Anyu with a grimace. She had a feeling that she knew exactly what Ashara was going to ask him.

"I'll find you in a bit," Alistair said to Kira.

She smiled. "Very well. I shall be in my room after speaking with Teagan."

When she was gone, Alistair turned to Ashara with a look that Kali took to be apprehension. "All right, what's this about?" He glanced at Kali, who didn't want to meet his eyes, and winced. "Oh no; don't tell me it's... time?"

Ashara nodded firmly. "Morrigan came to me earlier and said that it would be best to do the ritual before we leave Redcliffe. She said she'd need plenty of space."

The new King of Ferelden grimaced like a little boy about to get a beating. "Maker, I was hoping you'd forget about it." He straightened his shoulders as if to steel himself. "Fine; let's just do this now before I end up changing my mind."

"She's waiting in her room. I told her I would send you after we had finished up here."

"Wonderful," Alistair groaned. He ran a hand through his hair. "You remember your promise right? If I do this, you can't ever breathe a word of this to anyone." He spun around to glare at Kali, as if this was somehow her fault. "You too."

Ashara bit her thumbnail. "At the risk of making you more angry, I should point out that we promised never to tell _Kira_. But... Tamlen and Zevran already know about it."

Kali was almost positive she saw a vein throb in Alistair's forehead; his face flushed an impressive shade of scarlet. "Wonderful! Why don't you just tell the whole world while you're at it?"

"Well, I didn't know we weren't allowed to tell them," Ashara retorted defensively.

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck with a pout. "I can just imagine how hard they must have laughed."

Kali looked up at him and tried to manage a reassuring smile to make him feel better. "Actually, they're both really impressed, and grateful that you're doing this to help keep us all alive."

"Forgive me if I don't dance for joy," he said glumly. He seemed determined to be in a bad mood, though Kali couldn't really blame him for it. She'd be pretty upset if she had to do something like that.

Finally, he sighed. "All right, I might as well go get this over with. Maybe then I can drink enough to forget it ever happened." Without another word to the two of them, he stormed out of the room.

It grew quiet after he left. Ashara sat down on the bed with a sigh, and Kali looked down at Anyu, who was yawning and kicking her feet. The little baby paused, and it seemed to Kali as if she looked straight at her. Kali looked at Anyu's dark blue eyes, and for a split moment she was sure she saw something. Apprehension? Anxiety?

But of course she was just seeing things. Anyu was far too young to understand what was going on.

oOo

Redcliffe Castle grew still as night descended, bringing with it an artificial sense of peace. They would all march out for Denerim in the morning, and each man and woman prepared for it in their own way. Ashara, standing at the window of her room looking down into the courtyard below, could see the army scurrying about, finishing up last minute preparations, brushing down the horses, or clustered together in different groups; she assumed they were drowning their fears with a few tankards of ale or laughing at shallow jokes.

They were supposed to be asleep by now, resting up for the hard journey that must be started as soon as the sun rose, but Ashara didn't blame them. This was their last night to relax; tomorrow morning, at first light, they would start a fast march towards Denerim. They would push themselves as hard as they could to try and reach a city already under attack. Ashara had been told that most of the men and women had families in Denerim; they must be close to panicking. Why should they not at least try to relax for one night?

A soft movement, almost too faint to hear, stirred behind her. Ashara didn't bother to turn her head as Tamlen came to the window beside her and looked down at the courtyard below.

"I once thought that humans were stupid to drink before battle," he remarked quietly. "But now I can understand why they do it. At least they can have one night to forget about everything."

Ashara nodded, her eyes fixed on the bright torches that flickered against the night like fireflies dancing across a darkened field. "No one knows if they'll survive; half of these men probably won't make it back to their families." Her throat tightened; these men and women were her responsibility. This odd mixture of elves, dwarves, and humans were part of _her _army; they looked towards her for guidance and support. And all she could do was look down on them like some sort of cruel goddess, watching silently as they tried to comfort one another, knowing that half of them would die.

The two of them grew quiet, and Tamlen shifted closer to Ashara, though he didn't reach out to touch her. He seemed to have accepted Ashara's desire to remain untouched, and for that she was grateful. She constantly drifted between a need to talk to him about what had happened at Fort Drakon, and her anger at what she felt was him trying to probe her for information. And no matter which side she was on, she fought with her feelings, unsure if it was the right thing to feel. She needed more time before she could finally settle on an emotion; until that time, she needed space, and though she was grateful that Tamlen gave it to her, she didn't know how to thank him.

"You know, maybe they aren't the only ones who should be trying to enjoy this one night of peace," Tamlen suggested quietly, still looking down at the army below. "This might be our last night together."

Ashara turned to look at him as if she had never seen him before. Tamlen was her lover, the father of her child, and soon to be her mate... if they survived. What happened at Fort Drakon didn't change her feelings for him, did it?

Ashara anxiously bit the inside of her cheek, trying to sort out her thoughts. She loved him. That was still true; nothing that happened would change that. And he was right; this might be her last night with him. Once they started traveling, she wouldn't have any time to spend with him. If one of them, Mythal forbid it, died, did Ashara want their last time together to be a night of her pushing him away?

No, she didn't. No matter what happened in the past, she couldn't go to a potential death knowing that his last memory of her would be one of fear, anger, and confusion.

"Tamlen." Hesitant, unsure of what to do, she took a step towards him and leaned closer until her head rested on his shoulder. Tamlen stiffened at the contact, as if afraid she might panic if he moved too swiftly, but when she nestled against him his arm wound around her lower back.

Ashara sighed. "I... don't want to talk about Fort Drakon," she said quietly. "I don't know if I'll ever want to talk about it. But I... I do know that I don't want to push you away." She closed her eyes as she tried to give voice to the confusing whirl of emotions she felt. "And I don't want to face the Archdemon without telling you that I love you. _Ma'arlath_."

He shook her gently as his lips came down to the top of her head. "Silly _asha_. _Emma sorenlath_. You could never push me away; I'll wait as long as it takes you to grow comfortable enough to talk to me." She felt him smile. "But I'm afraid you're stuck with me either way, especially now that we have a daughter."

Despite herself, Ashara couldn't help but chuckle at his words; the first real laugh since Fort Drakon. She closed her eyes and pressed closer as he folded her in his arms. "And I am more grateful for that than I can ever say."

oOo

Kali took a sip of the warm ale, closing her eyes at the delicious taste of spices. She enjoyed it for one relaxing moment, before opening her eyes to see Zevran still sitting at the table opposite of her, as he had been for the past hour.

At the sight of him twirling his daggers in his hands–as if anxious for some sort of movement–Kali quickly set her cup down and stared at her hands. She knew exactly what was bothering him; he didn't want to be around her anymore. That thought made her feel worse than she already did, but how could she blame him for it? She had been withdrawn and cool ever since she came back from Fort Drakon. She knew it, and tried to make herself be nice to him, but she couldn't seem to help it.

However, she knew that Zevran wouldn't actually tell her that he didn't want to be around her anymore. She knew that he wouldn't want to make her feel worse than she already did. It would have to be her that brought it up.

Still staring down at her hands, now clenched together in her lap, she decided that the best idea might be to just barrel in. It was their last night of peace; he should be able to spend it with someone that could help him forget about the looming battle. "Um, Zevran?"

He looked up from his dagger. "Yes?"

"You don't... have to–to stay here, if you don't want to." Silence greeted her words, which made her feel a combination of anxiety and anger. Why did he always have to draw stuff out? Why couldn't he just get what she was trying to say? "I just, I mean, I know that you would probably rather be with someone more... fun, than me. Or at least, someone who wants to talk. Maybe Tamlen or Leliana? I don't... want you to think that you have to... to stay with me." She bit her bottom lip and looked to where her mabari was curled up near the fire. "I have Drake; I won't be alone."

Still Zevran didn't say anything, and after a time Kali was forced to look up to see if he had even heard what she said. But when she saw him, she noticed that he was shaking his head, almost as if he was disappointed in her.

When he glanced up and met her questioning look, he let out a long sigh. "You still do not understand, do you my little Warden?"

"Understand what?"

In one fluid movement he slipped from his chair and came to kneel in front of her, like a knight before his lady. "I do not care to be anywhere else, _mi querida_. When will you learn that I _wish_ to be around you?"

Kali looked away. "But–"

"No 'buts', my absurd little rogue." Slowly, as if afraid he might frighten her, he took her hands and gently turned her around in her seat until she was facing him. "It does not matter if we sit in silence all night, if that is your wish. I am not going anywhere."

She shook her head, more in confusion than refusal. "I don't understand." She had practically refused to talk to him since Fort Drakon. She had pushed him away and shunned him since the moment she first woke up after that horrible night. In fact, she was almost certain that he thought she blamed him for it; she hadn't even been able to bring herself to tell him that she didn't. So why, then, was he still sitting there with her?

He smiled up at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Given what he had gone through in his own life, Kali suspected that maybe he did know what was in her mind. Maybe he really understood why she couldn't seem to talk about it, why she suddenly felt the need to sleep with Drake next to her, or the way she hated to sit in the dark.

She couldn't see his thoughts on his face; his smile was as calm as ever as he wrapped his warm hands around her cold ones. "You have done much for me, yes? You gave me a life outside of the Crows, taught me to appreciate true friendship and loyalty. I owe you for all that you have done," his smile widened, "and I care for you too much to abandon you now, my beautiful girl."

"I don't blame you for what happened," Kali suddenly blurted out, spurred into comment by his touching words.

The smile slipped from his face. "Perhaps you do not, but I do."

"You shouldn't." Kali realized the truth of her words as she said them. He really shouldn't blame himself; it really wasn't his fault.

Zevran brought her hands to his lips and kissed them lightly. "Well, no matter what may happen in the future, I will always come for you. I swear it." He raised his head and looked at her, with a serious look to his face. "I know what it will take to heal, Kali. I do understand what you went through; know that I will always be here should you need me. I will never abandon you."

For the first time since Fort Drakon, Kali felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt like she had been encased in ice, and was only now beginning thaw.

"I am... thank you." She lowered her head and finally, for the first time, found the courage to say what she had wanted to tell him for so long. "Zevran if I die against the Archdemon I just want you to know that I... I love you." She tensed up, almost afraid to hear his reaction, but she couldn't regret her words. She didn't regret it.

Zevran rose up to his knees and put a hand on her cheek. "As I love you, _dulce mia_. And you won't die against the Archdemon; not if I can help it."

Kali relaxed and leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder. Zevran wrapped his arms around her, pulling her off the chair and down into his lap. At first Kali tensed at being held so close to someone, but she closed her eyes and willed away the panic, forcing herself to relax.

Who knew what would happen once they left Redcliffe? For all Kali knew, she might die. She might never again see Zevran, or Ashara or Anyu. But for now, she was able to forget about everything–the Blight, Fort Drakon, everything–and at least have one night to relax. The problems were far from over, but at least she had tonight.

Kali closed her eyes and relaxed in the warm embrace. It might not be much, but it was enough.

oOo

Kira reclined against the stuffed couch in her room and tipped her head back as the warmth of the fire enveloped her body, delighting her nose with the familiar, comfortable scents of burning wood and fresh strewn herbs.

Beside her, Alistair shifted in his seat but remained quiet. Kira raised an eyebrow in his direction, curious about his continuing silence. They had been sitting quietly for a while now, since he had come to her room–only a few hours after Ashara had spoken with him. He had seemed withdrawn and almost sulky.

Kira was more than a little worried about him. When she had finished speaking with Teagan to discover that Alistair was nowhere to be found, she had sought out Ashara to ask where he might be. But all the Commander would say was that she had sent him on a task that might take a while. However, there was something about the way her eyes had slid to the floor, as if she didn't want to look Kira directly in the eye. That worried her.

"Alistair?" Kira finally ventured. "Are you quite sure that you are all right?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine." He said the words in a rush, and Kira didn't believe him for a moment. Alistair was horrible at lying. When she continued to look at him skeptically, he dropped the fake smile and looked away. "Well, I was just thinking about... tomorrow. You know, we'll be marching towards Denerim, and then we'll fight the Archdemon." He hesitated. "One way or another, the Blight will be over."

Kira nodded; she should have guessed that that was what troubled him. He was the new King of Ferelden; every man and woman in the country depended on him to help Ashara lead them to victory. "If Morrigan's spell works as well as Ashara claims, we will have a greater chance of survival."

She had thought that might help to ease his mind. Ashara had told them all that it was a simple protection spell and Morrigan was a very skilled witch, despite her faults. If anyone could cast a spell to keep them safe, it would be her. But Kira didn't miss the way Alistair straightened up at her words, as if suddenly scalded. He pulled her into a tight embrace. "But, the important thing is that we survive, right?"

Kira pulled herself out of his grasp and glanced at him curiously. "Alistair, what is it? Please, tell me what is wrong and we can deal with it together." Was he troubled at the thought of letting Morrigan protect them? Kira knew that he and the witch didn't exactly get along, but surely he would overlook that if it kept them all safe? Especially if all she needed to do was cast a simple spell?

She saw the idea pass over his face, the brief thought of confiding whatever it was that bothered him, but then it was gone in a moment. He shook his head. "I just... don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. I love you, Kira. I want you to be safe."

Despite her hesitancy, Kira smiled. She sat up on the couch and cupped his face with both of her hands, planting a light kiss to his lips. "I love you as well, Alistair." She knew how much he cared for her, and it warmed her heart. "No matter what happens to us, know that I love you."

Alistair pulled her into a rough embrace and buried his face in her hair. "Maker, I am such a lucky man."

Kira giggled. "I shall remind you of your words when we have our first fight as husband and wife."

He grinned at that. "Our first fight. What will we be fighting about?"

She leaned back, smiling at the laughter that lit up his beautiful eyes. "Well, I suppose we shall inevitably fight over the fact that I am always correct."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Of course, love. Did you not know that the woman is always right?"

Alistair laughed and pulled her back towards him; Kira rested her head against his chest and relaxed. Whatever it was that was bothering him could wait; for now, they could at least enjoy this night together before the final battle.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>lethallan - friend, kinsman; used for female<br>lethallin - friend, kinsman; used for male  
>Ma'arlath - I love you<br>asha - woman  
>Emma sorenlath - My foolish love<br>_

_**A/N:** I am so so so sorry it took me over a month to update! D: I just kind of lost motivation and couldn't seem to sit down and write. Eventually, thanks to Kira's suggestions, I took a deep breath and just forced myself to type out the words. It seemed to get a bit easier as I kept writing, although I do owe Kira a lot for convincing me that this chapter wasn't the horrendous mess I thought it was.  
><em>

_Originally I planned on separating this into two chapters. I was going to have the three sections with the couples be in a chapter on their own, but since I took so long to update I cut out a lot of the needless information in those sections and just added them to this chapter. That way we can get back to the Blight in the next chapter :]  
><em>

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking. And especially thank you for your patience :D_


	46. Fallen Skies

_**A/N: **I usually put these at the bottom of the chapter, but I thought it might work out better here for this chapter. For starters, this chapter is a bit shorter than some of my previous chapters, but that's b/c the original that I had was divided into two chapters. Kira made the suggestion that there was too much going on; instead of one giant chapter I should divide it into two smaller ones, and after thinking about it I realized that she was correct. So, here is the first part of the final battle! But, to avoid leaving off at such a giant cliffhanger (and especially since you have all been so patient while I worked through my block), I'll be posting the second part tomorrow evening._

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, read, or requested alerts. It really means a lot. A special thank you to Kira Tamarion for her help and patience in going through the horrendous mess I sent her. Your advice and suggestions were very much appreciated!_

* * *

><p><strong>Fallen Skies<strong>

Having seen the horror of Ostagar firsthand, Kali had thought that she knew what they were going to see in Denerim, a city already under attack. She clearly remembered what Ostagar had been like; she saw it often in her sleep. She remembered standing at the top of the tower, seeing the piles of dead bodies–including her king–on the field below, the thousands of darkspawn that swept over the area, covering the very grass with their vile taint. She remembered the terrible sound of steel against steel, the stench of blood soaking the ground, the disgusting aroma of death, so thick she had felt she would choke on it.

So she knew what a battle looked like. She had been in plenty of fights, and knew that none of them compared to what she had seen at Ostagar. During the fast march from Redcliffe–stopping long enough for the army to sleep for two or three hours at most, cramming down food as they pushed themselves so hard even the horses began to weaken–Kali had tried her best to mentally prepare herself for Denerim. She reminded herself over and over that her home would be over run by darkspawn. She prayed that her family would have gotten out safe, even while telling herself not to expect it. She had thought that she was prepared.

But she was wrong. Kali felt like such a fool for it; if she had paid attention to anything that had happened to her since becoming a Grey Warden, especially that horrible moment at Ostagar, she would have already known that nothing could have prepared her for the devastation of seeing her home being torn apart.

Before the army could even see Denerim, they could all clearly smell the carnage on the wind. Burnt flesh, coppery blood, vile taint; all of it swept over them, as if the Archdemon was trying to taunt them, declaring that they were too late. Even the sky itself was red, like the sun was drenched in the blood of the innocents trapped within the city's walls.

The army began running towards the city. It didn't matter that they were all exhausted and starving, having pushed themselves hard for six days; no one cared that they were rushing towards a war that they might not survive. All that mattered was that half of the human army had family in there, and that the rest of the army needed to help end the Blight before it invaded their own homes.

Pulling out her daggers, Kali ran along with them. With Drake at her side she swept through the gates of Denerim. The darkspawn saw them rushing and came to meet them, brandishing their weapons soaked with the blood of their victims. Already houses were in flames and bodies littered the city, a city that was left unprotected, abandoned, when the entire army left for Redcliffe.

_Well_, Kali told herself, _now is the time for them to make up for that tragic mistake._

She couldn't see the Archdemon yet; she had no idea where it was, but she could clearly feel that it was there. Her Warden senses, still somewhat new and inexperienced, practically screamed at her, beating a warning in her veins that turned her skin to ice. But there was no time to pay attention to it, as a horde of darkspawn attacked the army.

Everything began to happen so fast. Kali saw a dwarven soldier stab a genlock in the chest; she watched a human mage being impaled on a large sword. But she didn't have time to do anything other than attack any darkspawn that came near her; and there were plenty. It seemed like hundreds of them had already invaded Denerim.

With Drake at her side, Kali whirled and twisted around the darkspawn, slicing and stabbing them until the air was thick with their tainted blood and Kali could barely raise her arms. She didn't know how long she and Drake stood in that one spot by the gates to Denerim, killing as many darkspawn as they could, but after a while it started to feel like the tide was beginning to recede.

Hope flared in her; maybe they _could_ manage to push them back! With renewed energy, Kali could feel a darkspawn coming up behind her; she twisted and flung one of her stilettos into its eye. Knowing that it would hit its mark, she turned her attention to a hurlock and managed to shove her daggers in its throat before it had time to attack her.

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, ready to defend herself again, but for the moment it seemed like the darkspawn were gone. The army was slowly pushing through the market, but it seemed that the area was mostly clear. Her eyes scanned the area; she spotted Ashara and the rest of her companions standing together in a crowd near the gate, catching their breaths after that fight. Kali rushed over to them, not even bothering to clean the blood off her daggers. She was pretty sure that it wasn't going to do any good, what with all the fighting ahead of her.

When she reached the group, Zevran pulled away from the rest of them and grabbed her hand, almost crushing her fingers. He didn't say anything, but Kali knew that he was telling her he was glad she was safe. She managed to give him a tired smile.

"I can sense at least two generals somewhere in Denerim," Kira was saying rapidly. Beside her, Aric nodded. "The Archdemon will most likely call on them when we fight it, and they will bring reinforcements. I say we kill them as soon as possible."

Ashara nodded, her black eyes taking in the marketplace, where the army was fighting the stray darkspawn. "Can you tell where they are?"

"I have an idea," Kira said. "However, we cannot afford to waste too much time searching."

"Very well." It seemed as though Ashara had come to a decision. "You and Alistair gather the Royal Army and seek them out. While you search, if you're able to, try to evacuate as many people as possible, but don't waste too much time." She bit her thumbnail. "Kali, Tamlen, Aric, Zevran, and Morrigan will go with me to the top of Fort Drakon. I've already sent the Dalish and some of the Redcliffe soldiers ahead. They're going to try to clear the way so we have a better chance of reaching the Archdemon without any casualties."

"Would you like the rest of us to stay here?" Wynne asked, brushing her damp bangs away from her face.

"Yes," Ashara said. "Stay with the rest of the army and keep the gates cleared. We don't want any darkspawn attacking us from behind."

Kira nodded. "We can expect the Archdemon to call more darkspawn up from below ground. This is only a temporary relief, but we have not yet seen the bulk of the horde. However, once we kill the Archdemon most of the darkspawn will retreat. If you can kill the Archdemon before it calls up the main horde we have a greater chance of surviving."

"Not that we have any pressure, or anything," Zevran said cheerfully, causing Tamlen to laugh and Morrigan to roll her eyes.

Kali knelt down next to Drake and cupped a hand under his muzzle. The mabari flattened his ears in annoyance, as if he knew exactly what she was planning to say. "Drake, I want you to stay here and help guard the gate, okay?" Drake snorted angrily, and Kali tried to smile to encourage him. She didn't want Drake going with her; she didn't want to see one of her best friends fighting against the Archdemon. It was bad enough that she would see Ashara, Zevran, and the others fight against it, but she didn't want to risk losing Drake too. Not if she could help it. "It'll be fine, Drake. I promise I'll come back to you, okay?" Her throat tightened against the lie, but she tried to keep her face light. "I'll feel better if I know that you're here with the others; I know I can trust you to keep the gates cleared."

Mollified by her comforting lie, Drake barked happily and planted a big, sloppy, dog kiss on her cheek. Kali tried her best to smile, ruffled his ears, and stood up to look at her companions.

Ashara lifted her chin and clutched her staff, assuming a commanding stance that got everyone's attention. "We all know what we have to do." Everyone nodded, and as Ashara's eyes traveled over the group, Kali saw that she was biting the inside of her lip, a gesture she did when she was anxious or nervous. She knew that Ashara was thinking of Anyu, left behind at Redcliffe with Keeper Marethari and only a handful of hunters.

"I'm not very good with good-byes," Ashara continued. "I don't like to plan for defeat and I don't want to admit that some of us might not make it back. So, I'm not going to say it." She smiled at each of them. "But, I _will_ tell you that it has been an honor knowing each and every one of you. After everything that we have been through, I want you to know that you have become my Clan, my kin. Know that whatever happens today, I trust each of you at my back."

Kali felt a stir of pride flare up through her companions as everyone realized the depth of what Ashara, that proud Dalish mage who once hated the outside world, was truly saying.

Alistair raised his sword to the sky. "For Ferelden! We're going to send that Archdemon back to the Void!"

"We will show the world what it means to be a Grey Warden!" Kira shouted.

Soon the whole group, with the exception of Sten and Morrigan, was cheering and clapping each other on the back, assuring one another that they would kill the Archdemon and that bards would sing songs about them for eternity. Kali found herself pumping her fist in the air and shouting alongside them, though she could feel her throat tighten with unshed tears. She knew, realistically, that not all of them would survive.

Every single one of them knew the risks. They had prepared for this moment for almost a year, since Flemeth first rescued the surviving Grey Wardens and sent them out with a seemingly impossible task. They had once thought gathering allies would never be accomplished, and look what they had done. They had found an army of elves, dwarves, and humans, an army that even now was storming through the city, rescuing as many people as they could and clearing the way to Fort Drakon. They had chosen the next King of Ferelden, stopped a civil war, and now they would fight the Archdemon. Why should it be impossible? When had anything ever been too impossible for them to do?

Ashara lowered her staff and parted her teeth in a feral grin, a devious smile, as if to tell them that they would all survive. "Let's go! It's time to kick that Archdemon back to the abyss!"

oOo

"You two! Search the area and evacuate anyone still hiding in their homes," Kira ordered. "Do so quickly, before the darkspawn break through!" The two soldiers nodded and ran off while Kira turned her attention back to the hastily erected gate to the Alienage.

"It's not going to hold for long," Alistair muttered next to her.

Kira remained silent, but she knew that he was right. Anyone with eyes knew that he was right. They had come with the Royal Army, following the trail of darkspawn taint to the Alienage, where Kira was positive they would find one of the Archdemon's generals. When they arrived they found that the elves, at the first signs of darkspawn approaching the city, had barricaded themselves into the Alienage. They had reluctantly let the army in, but on the other side of the Alienage, they could see a small crowd of darkspawn trying to break down the gates.

The elves had been in a panic, uncertain of what to do. Alistair ordered them to evacuate as quickly as they could; most of them hadn't bothered to stay and ask questions. Instead, they ran towards the market, where the bulk of the army was. There, they could either stay in the Chantry–hopefully safe from the horde–or help take care of the wounded.

A few members of the Royal Army had climbed on top of the roofs and were trying to shoot down at some of the gathered darkspawn, but the angle made it difficult for them to get a clear shot. The rest of Alistair's army was readying their weapons, preparing for when the darkspawn broke through.

Kira clenched her teeth; this was going to be a difficult battle. She could sense a powerful darkspawn hiding amongst the crowd, but how they were going to reach it was a mystery to her. She and the army were in a small area with two high walls on either side. If they weren't careful, they could easily be blocked in and slaughtered. But, it was the only chance they had. If they hadn't come, the darkspawn would have destroyed the entire Alienage as easily as a child kicking up sand.

"Whatever else, we _must_ kill the general," she told Alistair quietly. "If we can kill it, we can cut off a big part of the Archdemon's power; it will severely reduce the amount of darkspawn it can call."

"But we don't have much room," Alistair said, echoing her own worries.

Kira shrugged, pretending a calm she didn't feel. "It is all we can do." Mentally, she cursed herself for not bringing some of the mages along with them. At the time, she had thought it best to leave them with the rest of the army, to heal and keep the horde from breaking through the gates. But now, she saw what a mistake that had been; now they had no good way to kill the darkspawn that pounded at the gate.

Well, there was nothing to do about it now. They would just have to deal with the situation as it was.

"You! You're the Grey Wardens, aren't you?"

Kira twisted around at the voice to see an elf with bright red hair rushing up to her, followed by a man with pale blonde hair. "What are you doing?" Kira demanded, irritated that they were still in the Alienage. "Get out of here! There are two soldiers waiting to escort all of you back to the main army, where you have a better chance of surviving!"

The redhead narrowed her eyes. "Don't order me around, _shem_!We want to stay and help. This is our home; Nelaros and I aren't just going to abandon it!" Her arm swept towards the rest of the city. "My cousin is out there somewhere, fighting for our home! We're going to do the same!"

Just as Kira was about to make a sharp retort, they all heard a crash as the gate was knocked down and the darkspawn began to pour through. "Get out!" Kira shouted. She grabbed the redhead by the arm and forcibly shoved her towards the man. These elves had no armor and virtually no weapons. If they fought, they would die. "If you want to help, get your people to safety and take care of the wounded!"

The redhead shouted something, but Kira didn't bother to stay and see if the two elves had followed her order. There wasn't time. She grabbed her sword from its sheath and ran towards the darkspawn, following behind Alistair and the army.

She let the others handle the crowd of darkspawn, while she sought out the general. There was so much of the taint all swirling together; she could it feel it as if it were flowing down her skin and knew that the general was close.

As she ran, a hurlock appeared in front of her, swinging a bloodied mace. Kira dove under its attack and brought her sword up, slicing through its arm. When the hurlock dropped the mace, she twisted up and beheaded it. The hurlock fell, and Kira saw it... the general!

It stood back from the crowd with its twisted staff raised, sending curses towards the soldiers. Kira had no time to wonder if there was anyone around who could assist her; she had to assume that she alone could reach the general. It was important that they kill it. At this very moment, Ashara, Kali, and the others would be fighting their way towards Fort Drakon. If Kira didn't kill the two generals before they reached the Archdemon, they would be at a serious disadvantage.

The general saw her coming and sent out a string of spells she didn't recognize. She quickly lifted her shield to try and deflect them as she pushed forward. Orlesian armorers were skilled at crafting magic resistant weapons; although her shield wouldn't continue to hold against an onslaught of magic, it would at least give her a fighting chance.

Her shield managed to hold against the first few spells, but then she felt the metal freeze over; the general had sent an ice spell at her. She quickly dropped her shield and dove to the side to avoid any more spells. She rolled on the ground, quickly jumped to her feet, and darted at the general. Years of training had quickened her reflexes; she brought her sword around and sliced the blade through the darkspawn's side, where its armor was split to reveal a weak spot.

The general fell and its spells died with it. Kira yanked her sword out, before using the back of her hand to wipe her sweaty bangs away from her face. She looked around the area, and could see that the army was slowly overwhelming the darkspawn. Alistair was fighting a genlock over the corpse of an ogre, but as Kira watched he managed to cut through it. His armor and every inch of visible skin was splattered with blood and sweat, but he looked unharmed.

"Can you tell us if any more darkspawn are coming, my lady?" a soldier asked, running up to Kira with his axe out.

She sheathed her sword, shaking her head. "I cannot sense any more darkspawn in this area." She bent to pick up her frozen shield. Hopefully the spell would wear off soon so that she could use it again. She could feel the prickle of more darkspawn heading towards the market, with a mixture of something more powerful laced in it. _Presumably, the second general._ "We must make our way back to the marketplace with the rest of the army."

Alistair came up to her, catching the tail end of her comment. "Is the other general there?"

"I believe so," she said hesitantly. "I can sense a powerful taint from that area." With a pang, she realized that more than a quarter of the Royal Army had been killed. If she had brought mages with them, this might not have happened.

A roar suddenly ripped through the sky; they all looked up to see the Archdemon flying over the city. The soldiers gasped to see the powerful, fearsome dragon flying through the air. Kira grit her teeth; she couldn't let her men lose hope. She couldn't dwell on the dead soldiers. She needed to keep fighting and end this Blight. "We shall cut through the market and go back to the gates. The general should be heading that way; we can kill it on our way back to the army. Then we can help keep more darkspawn from pouring through."

Alistair nodded and turned back to their men. "You heard the lady! Let's move!"

oOo

_Fort Drakon..._

Ashara closed her eyes for one brief moment–the only rest she allowed herself to have–and walked down the entrance hall with her head up, looking neither left nor right. She would have given almost anything to never set foot in this place again. However–luckily or unluckily–she didn't have time to dwell on what happened the last time she had been here. Outside these cold stone walls, the army was still fighting. Ashara could hear the muffled sounds of her allies trying to stem the flow of darkspawn.

"It would seem that the darkspawn have already been here," Morrigan said idly, prodding a dead human body with the tip of her foot before looking around the room. "Yet there are darkspawn corpses as well."

"The Dalish and Redcliffe soldiers have already come through here," Ashara said. "They went to the roof to try and clear a path for us; I suppose we can assume that they killed as many darkspawn as they could find."

Aric shifted his giant axe against his shoulder. "I can't sense any darkspawn here." He looked at the others. "Can any of you?"

Tamlen shook his head, peering warily down the long corridors. "It's all muddled up; I can sense darkspawn all over the entire city, but it's hard to tell where exactly they are."

The dwarf nodded, as if he wasn't surprised. "Well, I think we're good here. For now, at least."

"Then let's get to the top as quickly as we can," Ashara said.

The group pushed through the dark fort, falling into a deep silence, each of them contemplating their own thoughts. It was as Aric had said; there didn't seem to be any darkspawn here, but the thick silence almost seemed to hint at a danger on its own.

The whole fort was littered with dead bodies, darkspawn piled on top of humans as if something had wiped them all out in an instant. Ashara felt a shiver run down her spine; if ever there was a place where the Veil to the Beyond would be torn, this would be it. She knew, as one who had been in _setheneran_ places before, that this fort would become twisted and tainted sometime in the future.

She kept her eyes in front of her as she led the others towards the stairs to the second floor, but without even realizing it her hand reached out to Tamlen and clutched his, as if she needed him to hold her to reality. She didn't want to be here. She imagined the door she just passed led to the dungeon where she and Kali were kept; she pictured the two of them being dragged down this same corridor.

She was almost grateful when, after only a short time, they reached the top floor. They started running down the corridors–the sounds of battle were growing louder and louder with each step. Ashara could feel the taint in her blood screaming in agony; the Archdemon was close by. Perhaps it could already sense them and was coming towards the roof of the fort!

"There!" Aric shouted, pointing to the large door at the top of a small set of stairs. "That should lead to the roof!"

Ashara took in a deep breath as they ran. "You know what to do?" They all nodded back at her. "Then let's go! This is it! It's time to end the Blight!"

oOo

"Push them back!" Kira shouted, slicing through a shriek and turning her attention to a hurlock without skipping a beat. She thrust her shield forward, knocking the hurlock off balance before swinging her sword around to cut through its black flesh.

More and more darkspawn swarmed the gate, as if the Void had unleashed them with a terrible fury. For every darkspawn killed, it seemed as though five more poured through the gates. Having killed the second general, Kira, Alistair, and the Royal Army arrived just in time to help the rest of the army defend the area, but she was beginning to worry that they were fighting a losing battle.

Spells flew around her, lighting up the whole area with mixtures of color; Kira couldn't even tell which spell was from an enemy and which one was from an ally. All she could do was pray that spells were from the allies and that they hit their intended targets.

As darkspawn after darkspawn charged through the gate, each one with a vile murderous intent, Kira could begin to sense that the army was slowly growing exhausted. She couldn't blame them; she didn't even know how long they had been fighting. Her own muscles screamed each time she lifted her sword or shield, but she ignored the pain and pressed forward, hacking her way through every darkspawn she encountered. Her hair and skin were caked with blood, her armor was getting more and more worn with each hit she endured, but she had to keep going.

A wave of energy swirled around her, healing some of the bruises on her skin, knitting cuts back together, filling her with more energy. She sent a mental thank you to Wynne, who was standing behind the army with the other healers, and swung her sword around to hit a genlock that came towards her.

But they couldn't continue on like this. She caught glimpses of her other companions amidst the chaos of battle; Oghren or Leliana's red hair, Sten's huge form, even Alistair's golden armor. She believed they were still alive and fighting, but they would wear down soon.

"We can win this!" she yelled, trying to stir some energy and hope into the soldiers nearby.

Beside her, she heard Sten shouting in his native tongue, and though she could not understand the words he said, she could feel that he was encouraging the army in his own way. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, an arrow fell through the sky, piercing the Qunari in the throat. Before he, or anyone, had time to react, Kira watched him fall to the ground.

"STEN!" Kira tried to get to his side, but there were too many darkspawn. She swung her sword, slammed her shield, desperately trying to cut through them to reach her ally. "Someone help him!" But there was no one around to hear, and even if they did, they couldn't do anything.

It was at that moment, that Kira had her first doubts that they might not be able to end the Blight. There were too many darkspawn; they didn't have enough allies gathered. They should have moved faster. She should have tried harder to call on her fellow Orlesian Wardens. They were foolish to think that they could end the Blight so soon. No Blight had ever lasted less than ten years!

But, just as Kira was about to give up, as she was fighting blankly through the sea of darkspawn, she saw the best sight she could have imagined. A dark figure cut through the sky: the Archdemon. Kira saw it fly through the air on powerful wings, tear through the city, and land atop of Fort Drakon. There was only one thing that could have drawn it to Fort Drakon while its darkspawn were fighting on the ground.

"They made it!" she gasped. A shriek dove towards her with an eery death cry that seemed to echo against the metal weapons. With renewed energy, Kira swept her sword around to cut through its neck. "They made it!" she shouted. "Keep it up, soldiers! The Grey Wardens reached the Archdemon!"

The army heard her words; she knew they did. She could sense their refreshed vitality as everyone realized that if they could manage to hold on just a little bit longer, they might be able to survive this terrible Blight.

"For Ferelden!" she heard Alistair shout at the top of his lungs. The men and women cheered with him and kept pushing back towards the darkspawn, their determination to save their world was equal, if not greater, than the Archdemon's determination to destroy it.

Kira found herself cheering with the rest of the men, even as her muscles felt ready to give up. They could do this. Just a little bit longer.


	47. Those Who Challenged the Sun

**Those Who Challenged the Sun**

The roof of Fort Drakon was like a scene only the Forgotten Ones could have dreamed up. Darkspawn poured through any opening they could find; Ashara could have sworn that some of them were actually climbing the walls of the fort itself. The Dalish hunters and Redcliffe soldiers stood fighting against the swarms of darkspawn that spilled out onto the roof, their shouts of rage and pain echoing against the stone like an ominous cry of death.

And just as Ashara and the others reached the top of the fort, eager to end the Blight once and for all, they saw it. The Archdemon, landing atop the roof with a powerful crash, as if it had felt the Wardens climbing the fort and was determined to meet them head on. Perhaps it was as Kira said, and it could feel the Grey Warden taint as well as they could feel the darkspawn.

For a split moment, Ashara felt her entire body freeze. That dragon was the most terrifying thing she had ever imagined. Much more frightening than _Asha'belannar_, more powerful than any normal dragon, Ashara could do nothing but stare at it like a child confronted by a god, rooted to the spot by fear. If what Morrigan said was true, then this _was_ an Old God, an actual god. No wonder she felt frozen to the spot; any mortal would have trembled when confronted by such a horrific creature.

Her army turned from the darkspawn and swept around the Archdemon, trying to wear it down for the Grey Wardens to kill, but to Ashara they looked like nothing more than ants trying to attack a wolf. This was a god! How could they ever hope to defeat such a monstrous, corrupted thing?

The Archdemon turned its giant head towards them, ignoring the mortals at its feet. Ashara could have sworn that it turned to stare her in the eyes, turning her very blood to ice, but when she felt Kali shudder next to her, she realized that it might just be the effect of so much taint being close to them. They could all feel the Archdemon's taint calling out to them, screaming in their blood, but because they were Grey Wardens it couldn't seduce them into servitude as it did with the darkspawn.

Then, a soldier managed to slice his blade through the Archdemon's leg; it turned away from the Grey Wardens with a bellow and the spell was broken, and Ashara was running towards the battle with the others. Aric swung his axe over his shoulder, Kali and Zevran disappeared into the shadows, Tamlen climbed to a higher spot to shoot his arrows, and Morrigan stood beside Ashara, casting curses and paralyzing glyphs.

Ashara's job was to keep her companions as healthy as possible, to try and catch their injuries before they were too harmed to fight. But it was difficult for her to keep an eye on everyone, as her view was constantly blocked by darkspawn. She swung her staff around in front of her and sent out blue sparks of healing waves towards her friends, to keep their energy and health up for when they inevitably got hit. She couldn't risk wasting precious energy to keep a spell shield over her; she would just have to hope that Morrigan could help keep enemies off her while she healed the others.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Keeper Rhys and a woman she recognized as Keeper Soora, casting ancient Dalish spells against the Archdemon, careless of being within the sights of _shemlen_. The two Keepers were surrounded by a few of the Dalish, who held their bows tight as they tried to pick off as many darkspawn as possible.

She saw some of the soldiers from Redcliffe swept aside by the Archdemon's thick tail and winced, knowing that they were probably dead before they hit the ground. There was nothing she could do and in any case, she needed to spend time on her companions. She would quickly lose all of her energy if she tried to keep everyone healed on her own.

A gray shadow suddenly gathered on top of the Archdemon. As Ashara watched, the shadows melted to reveal Zevran sitting on the dragon's massive back, slamming his daggers into its hide. The Archdemon lifted onto its hind legs and flung him off, but Ashara was ready for it; she swiftly sent out a net of healing energy to absorb the damage before he landed. He crashed to the ground but soon hopped back to his feet, ready to attack again.

Sweat poured down Ashara's face as her energy was getting more and more depleted. She pulled at the constant flow of power around the world, forcing it into healing spells with her dwindling energy; no matter how tired she became she was unwilling to dip into her own life force, which could quickly lead to her death. With each healing spell or glyph of energy she sent out, she felt herself grow weaker and weaker. She reached out a hand to Morrigan, gasping for the witch to hand her a lyrium potion.

But Morrigan wasn't there; somehow, the two women had gotten separated, though Ashara didn't know how it happened. Suddenly she was surrounded by darkspawn. Ashara let out a shout of anger and sent out a wave of energy to knock them down and give her a chance to get away. But she was drained from all of her spells, and one shriek managed to break through the wall of energy.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The shriek came rushing towards her with its claws out; Ashara screamed and tried to send out a bolt of lightning but her energy was gone. She had nothing left. The shriek reached towards her and dug its disgusting claws in her left arm. Ashara let out a wail of pain as she twisted and tried to pull out of its grasp but she felt the skin of her arm tear as she pulled her arm away, and the shriek refused to relinquish its grasp.

It was a pain unlike anything she had ever imagined. Worse than giving birth, worse than the Joining. She felt muscles tear and bones snap as the shriek's sharp, razor-like claws dug into the flesh of her arm. White dots danced in front of her vision, she worried that she might actually pass out from the pain.

Suddenly, a blast of fire erupted nearby, and the shriek was gone. Ashara fell to her knees, dropping her staff, and found Morrigan standing over her, looking worried. The sounds of the battle faded as the witch opened a lyrium potion and practically poured it down Ashara's throat.

Ashara grabbed the bottle and drank the liquid like a starving man consumes a piece of bread. Energy came back to her in a rush and so did her senses. Her arm was almost completely numb from the pain; she clambered to her feet and poured healing energy into the open wound, trying to knit back as much torn flesh as she could. She was encouraged when she felt the bones become firm and the muscles reattach. The skin of her arm was still a bloody mess, shredded too bad for her to completely heal, and she knew that she would have some permanent damage, but at least she could knit the skin together well enough to use the arm.

Her healing finished, she grabbed another lyrium potion from Morrigan, drank it as fast as she could, and looked around for her companions. Tamlen was still safe, shooting his arrows at the Archdemon, Zevran was fighting with a genlock, and though he was bloody and wounded, he seemed fine enough. But where were Kali and Aric?

She caught a hint of bright gold flying through the air, and twisted towards the sight just in time to see the Archdemon catch Kali and Aric with one sweep of its giant claws, knocking them both back.

"KALI!" Ashara screamed. She sent a healing spell towards both of them, but when they landed on the ground neither of them got up again. "NO!" Ashara was running towards the little rogue, unable to believe it. It couldn't happen. Kali couldn't die. Not after everything else that had happened. They hadn't survived torture just to die against the Blight, right?

Ashara was screaming for someone to get to Kali and Aric, to pull them away before something worse happened, but she couldn't see where her other companions were. She tried to push past the waves of darkspawn, but she couldn't get there. The darkspawn kept pressing closer. There was no way she'd be able to reach them.

Ashara let out a shriek of rage and slammed her staff on the ground, attacking every single darkspawn she could see, focusing on nothing but her own unbridled hatred, her sheer agony that Kali, her best friend, her _ashalan_, might be dead.

_No no no no!_

oOo

The sounds of battle had become a dull hum in the back of her mind. Kali winced as the noise grew louder, invading her ears, assaulting her head until she felt that it was beating against the inside of her skull. She didn't want to open her eyes; it hurt too much to even think, let alone move.

But the fight was still going. She could hear men and women shouting, the roars of the terrifying Archdemon. She couldn't afford to just give up and fall back into the comforting embrace of death. That wasn't what Grey Wardens did, and she was a Grey Warden. Wincing at the movement, Kali managed to slowly force her eyes open. Her vision swam in front of her, but soon it cleared and she was staring up at the red sky.

Every inch of her body felt as though it had been set on fire. Kali felt something wet and sticky on her chest; she lifted her head up enough to deep gashes across her chest and stomach, where the Archdemon's claws had caught her and flung her to the side. For a moment, she almost panicked. Her shirt was ripped; she could see torn flesh poking out of the cloth. Was she going to bleed out?

She took in a deep breath, willing herself to be calm, and the movement made her check. She took in another breath. She could breathe! Her lungs were aching; it hurt to inhale, but her breathing was clear and uninhibited. Blood hadn't managed to spill into her lungs, and she had learned enough from Ashara and Wynne to know that maybe that was a sign that the damage wasn't severe enough to kill her!

With a groan of pain–it seemed that maybe she _had_ broken a rib or two–she managed to roll over onto her side and was immediately confronted by Aric, lying lifeless on the ground, his head twisted to an unnatural angle, his eyes dead.

"No," she gasped out, and somehow managed to crawl over to him. "No, Aric! Please get up. You can't die! Come on, Kira needs you; you know that!" She shook the dwarf as hard as she was able, but still he didn't move. "Get up! Please!"

All around her, darkspawn were still clashing with the army, the Archdemon was still raging around the area, but none of that seemed to register with Kali. She couldn't seem to focus on anything but the lifeless body of the man who had been her fellow Grey Warden, one of only three Orlesian Wardens with enough courage to come help Ferelden when they needed it. "Get up, Aric; please!"

Then, the blood-chilling bellows of the Archdemon managed to reach her ears, pulling her to her senses. Kali saw the dragon stomping around on the ground with a huge gash in its wing. Somehow, the army had managed to wound it so that it couldn't fly. And was she just seeing things, or was the Archdemon moving slower than before?

While Kali sat there next to Aric, watching the Archdemon attack her army, a giant curl of thorns erupted from beneath the stone roof. They surrounded the Archdemon in a wooden cage of giant spikes and twisted vines; Kali could hear it screaming and gnashing around wildly as it tried to free itself.

A burning rage swept through her body. The pain in her chest and stomach seemed to recede, as she could only focus on that horrible, evil, twisted creature that needed to die. She couldn't rely on the other Wardens to kill it; she didn't even know if anyone else was alive or not.

Summoning up every shred of energy she had left, Kali managed to scramble to her feet and grab Aric's giant axe–she didn't know where her daggers were, but it didn't matter. She was unsteady at first, but her burning hatred for this evil god kept her upright as she ran towards the Archdemon.

Her lungs were on fire, her muscles screamed in protest, and she could feel blood pouring down her stomach but Kali ignored it all, focusing only on the dragon in front of her. A giant boulder flew past her–cast by one of the mages–and slammed into the Archdemon, knocking it down onto it's side and impaling half of its body against the thick roots as Kali reached it.

The Archdemon fell with a giant crash that shook the roof so badly; it threatened to destroy the entire building. But, Kali didn't even stop to think about any of that. She didn't care if she lived or died. She just wanted to end this once and for all. The Archdemon landed on its side, its head smashing into the floor of the roof, and Kali was ready. With every bit of strength she had left, she lifted the giant axe as high as she could and brought it slamming down on top of the Archdemon's head.

The Archdemon let out a shriek of rage as the blade of the axe pierced through its skull. It tried to twist away, but the roots kept it pinned down and soon it was dying; Kali could have sworn that she could actually feel its soul rushing out of its body with a cry of defeat.

That was the last thing she remembered, before a blinding white light suddenly erupted from the giant dragon, knocking them all back, swallowing the whole roof of Fort Drakon in a sea of light.

oOo

Morrigan coasted along the currents of the autumn wind in her raven form, putting as much distance between herself and Denerim as possible, before the Wardens regained their senses enough to wonder where she was. She had left the city as soon as she had felt the power of the Old God course through her womb. It was dead; the Grey Wardens had succeeded, and the Blight was now over.

As for Morrigan, her job was only beginning. The first steps had been taken–she was carrying a child who would be the rebirth of an Old God–and the next phase of the dance could begin.

She didn't bother to stay and see to the survivors. She had promised Ashara that as soon as the battle was over she would leave, and she did. She knew that Ashara and Kali would survive; their task was far from over.

It was the same for her. Morrigan had a lot to accomplish before this child was born. These next few months would be critical to her survival. If she could get herself to a safe place before the child arrived, a place well guarded and protected from a certain irritating mage who thought she knew best, Morrigan would have the upper hand.

As she flew through the air she felt a brief, uncomfortable, hint of guilt at leaving so swiftly, without even bothering to say farewell. Ashara, and even Kali, had become... important to her, over these past few months. Part of her–a mad, foolish part–longed to stay with them. To see them grow as Wardens, to be with them as they stood against the next threat, to raise her daughter in a home with Anyu.

But she pushed those ridiculous thoughts away. Her destiny was already set; it did not include living a life of idleness, a life of leisure with friends. Her path was one of solitude. And she would never lament that.

Morrigan closed her eyes as she flew through the cool wind, enjoying the chill that revitalized her spirit and refreshed her mind from her foolish doubts. She would raise her daughter to know who she was; she would train her to understand the power that rested in her, to prepare for the task that was ahead of them both.

So, Morrigan kept flying away from those two women that she had grown to care for, not even allowing herself the luxury of looking back on Denerim.

Morrigan rarely looked back on anything.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** To be perfectly honest, I've been really torn for a long while on who should kill the Archdemon. Ashara and Kali are supposed to have a balance, and I worried that to have one of them kill the Archdemon would make them the "hero" and the other one unimportant. My original plan was to have one of the other Wardens (possibly Tamlen, just to shake things up) be the one to kill it. But, I think we all kind of knew that Kali would be the one to reach it. Ashara has always had it in her to kill the Archdemon if she reached it first. I don't think that killing the Archdemon would really do much for her growth, since hers was mostly about how she saw the outside world. But with Kali, I think it was a really important thing for her to go through._

_Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing! It means a lot to me. A special thanks to Kira Tamarion for her wonderful beta help, and for her suggestions that made this chapter flow so much better. _

_Only one more chapter to go!_


	48. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

**Six weeks after the death of the Archdemon **

The Great Hall was a place transformed from the last time Kali had been there. She almost didn't recognize it as the place where Tamlen had killed Ferelden's greatest general, where Anora had betrayed the Grey Wardens and the nobles had gathered in their fear of the Blight.

Today, it was a place of celebration; Kali saw that the fears of the past seemed to have been easily dismissed. Golden tapestries, glittering with depictions of Ferelden's greatest moments of history, hung from the stone walls, enveloping them all with a sense of warmth and safety. Sparkling chandeliers, dangling from the ceiling, sent rays of light dancing across the large room as if twinkling with joy at their victory over the Blight. And the nobles! They were out in full force, dressed in their very best as if they had never huddled together in fear and desperation. They twirled and fluttered around the hall dressed in colorful silks, cloths of gold, and decorated with so many dazzling jewels it made Kali's head spin.

The newly crowned King of Ferelden, Alistair Theirin, stood before the assembly, in front of the two thrones, confident in his pride and shining in his joy. He was just finishing up a long speech about the Blight, those he chose to honor, and all the other formal stuff that Kali had quickly grown bored with. Standing next to him, her smile so radiant she could have lit up the room on her own, stood Kira, formally acknowledged as his future wife, the future Queen of Ferelden.

"Now," Alistair said to the gathered nobles, having finished everything he needed to say, "let the celebration begin!"

A joyous cheer sounded from the hall; everyone began to move about, some coming together in small groups to gossip and enjoy the celebration, but Kali noticed that some of the smiles around her seemed strained. She had listened to their gossip over the past few weeks, and knew enough to know that an Orlesian on the throne could never be a popular choice. In fact, there were many who were already whispering that perhaps Loghain had been right to fear Orlais, for here was one of their people, soon to take the Crown! What could one expect but that she would try to hand Ferelden over to the Empress?

Ashara had told her to ignore the rumors; Alistair and Kira already knew of them, there was no point in even acknowledging them. Besides, it did seem that there were many people, especially those who weren't nobility, that were happy for their new King. To see Alistair exuding such joy next to his future bride put genuine smiles on many faces. There were many others who claimed that perhaps now the country could settle into some sort of stability. With such a young, energetic couple on the throne, who could doubt that Ferelden would become a prosperous, peaceful place?

Kali stood near the tables of food–where she had quickly retreated after being forced to stand up there with Ashara while Alistair granted them boons for what they did–and smiled as she watched the new King and Queen step down from the dais to talk with some of the nobles. She knew that they would do a lot of good for Ferelden. Kira would be a strong, steady leader for the people, and would surely teach Alistair everything she knew, and Alistair would, no doubt, grow into a King that would be admired.

"There you are!" Kali was shaken from her thoughts as something big crashed into her, almost knocking her back into the table of food. She felt arms wrap tightly around her stomach in a giant hug and looked down to see the top of Shianni's head.

"Ugh, Shianni!" Kali gasped. "Let me go; I can't breath! Is this how you thank me for making you Bann of the Alienage; by killing me?"

Her cousin released her and straightened up with a giant smile. By the red splotches on her cheeks and the bottle of wine in her hand, Kali could tell that she was well on her way towards getting drunk. As if to prove Kali's thoughts, Shianni let out a very undignified snort. "Yes, I guess I should thank you, huh? Especially since the nobles are going to _hate _you after they hear what I have to say at the Landsmeet!"

Behind her, Kali saw Nelaros wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Apparently, seeing Shianni snorting like a frolicking horse was a source of great amusement to him. "Sadly, I'm afraid Shianni has a point," he said. "You should hear some of the things she's planning to tell the nobles."

"And they can learn to shut up and listen!" the redhead said cheerfully. "It's about time us elves have a voice."

Kali grinned at her cousin's enthusiasm. Alistair had offered the suggestion that Kali should take the position of Bann of the Alienage, to give the elves a voice at the Landsmeet, but she had decided that the position go to Shianni. Kali would be spending most of her time with the Wardens in Amaranthine, but she knew that Shianni would fight with everything she had to ensure that the elves had a better life. She couldn't think of anyone better suited to the task.

"So, you're getting drunk to celebrate your new position?" Kali asked.

Her cousin took another drink of wine. "I'm getting drunk because there's free wine," she clarified.

"You might actually be able to give Oghren a run for his money." Kali turned to see Ashara walking towards them, with Anyu giggling and bouncing on her hip. She pointed towards the opposite side of the room, where the dwarf was swinging his ale around with Zevran and Tamlen; all three were singing a very raunchy song that had half the nobles around them laughing, and the other half scandalized.

Kali shook her head and Ashara grinned. "Oghren challenged them to a drinking contest, but I think they've forgotten that by now. I left when they got to the part about 'petals unfolding'."

Shianni almost spit her wine out when she heard that. "Oho! I need them to teach me that song! Come on, Nelaros." She grabbed his wrist and dragged him off towards the singing men.

Kali watched them go, unable to take the smile from her face. Ashara glanced at her. "Do you think Shianni will be a good Bann for the Alienage?"

"I do." Kali's smile widened. "She loves our people and she's not afraid of humans. She'll be able to make sure the nobles listen to her, and she'll have Nelaros there to help." Kali was unable to keep the happiness from her voice.

Just last week, Shianni had come to her to tell her that Nelaros had asked for her hand. They had grown close over the past year, and had soon developed feelings for one another. Shianni was afraid that Kali would be upset, since technically Nelaros was supposed to be _her_ husband. But of course, Shianni hadn't known about Zevran, since Kali had been afraid to mention it the last time she had come to the Alienage. Once Kali had told her that she already found the man she loved, the two women had shared a good laugh at how scandalized the Alienage would be. Kali's betrothed marrying her cousin!

But, it turned out that Father had been fine with the match, though he was mildly irritated that he hadn't been consulted or asked for permission. He didn't exactly approve of Kali's relationship with Zevran, but Kali suspected that that had to do with the fact that Zevran had cheerfully explained his occupation as an assassin and how he and Kali had met, leaving out no detail. By the time he was finished talking about how he had tried to kill Kali, Father looked like he was going to pass out. In the end, all he said was that Adaia would have loved Zevran, and that as Kali was now recognized as Second to the Warden-Commander, she was free to choose her own path.

Besides, it seemed Father was growing exhausted with the three children he had raised. Between Shianni planning to marry Nelaros, Kali in a relationship with an assassin, and Soris' shocking announcement that he had fallen in love with a human, Father apparently just decided to give up trying to control them. He claimed that they all had inherited Adaia's independence and that he might as well accept their choices, though he was pleased that Shianni and Nelaros intended to stay at home and help take care of him in his old age.

All this thinking of love and relationships made Kali turn a smile to Ashara. "So, how does it feel to finally be a married woman?" Two weeks ago, the three Dalish Clans that had gathered to help end the Blight had thrown Ashara and Tamlen a beautiful mating celebration. It was the first big Dalish ritual Kali had ever attended, and she found it was even more beautiful than human weddings.

Ashara bounced Anyu on her hip, smiling down at the three month old. "Not that different, actually." She chuckled, then noticed Kira up near the dais, trying to catch their attention. "I think she wants to talk to us. Come on."

The two women walked through the crowd, and Kali saw many of the nobles celebrating their victory over the Archdemon–though Kali didn't remember any of them standing beside her or Ashara when they fought the Blight. To hear them talk, they had stood shoulder to shoulder with the Wardens. But, she shrugged it away; instead, turning her thoughts to what Kira might want. What else did they need to discuss?

Alistair had already gone over everything in his speech. He had formally recognized Ashara as the Warden-Commander and Kali as Second, he had given the Wardens the land of Amaranthine, and had decreed that a statue was to be erected for those who died against the Blight: King Cailan, Duncan, Aric, Sten, Riordan, and all the other soldiers. After naming Shianni as the new Bann of the Alienage, Alistair had even gone so far as formally granting land to the Dalish. He gave them a large part of the Brecilian Forest, a place he knew they already resided, a place Ashara told him they would feel more comfortable with. None of the Dalish had wanted to come to the celebration–being around so many humans would make them nervous–but Ashara was going to inform Keeper Marethari once things settled down.

Well, it was probably some other thing about Kira's coronation that would take place in another week. Ashara, Kali, Zevran, and Tamlen were all heading back to Amaranthine in the morning; they might not have a chance to speak with Kira before they left, so she probably wanted to remind them of something they needed to do. Kali had noticed that she and Ashara seemed to have much more responsibility now that they had a title.

As they made their way to Kira, Kali saw Wynne laughing with Leliana, Irving, and Greagoir, with Drake standing attentively by them. Kali smiled. She was glad to know that they had survived the Blight. Only Morrigan was missing, but they hadn't seen her since they had woken on top of Fort Drakon after the Archdemon was killed.

It seemed that as soon as the Archdemon had died, Morrigan decided to leave. Ashara had said that they shouldn't expect to see her again; as part of their arrangement, they weren't supposed to chase after her. Kali agreed–they had promised, after all–but part of her wished that they could at least see her again. To thank her for everything she had done, at least. And, Kali had to admit to herself that she wanted to see this baby Morrigan was going to have.

What kind of child would it be? With Morrigan as its mother, Kali seriously doubted that he or she would turn out to be a warm, enthusiastic child like Anyu. Rather, Kali had a mental image of a thoughtful, studious child with a heavily sarcastic mind. But Alistair was its father, maybe some of his traits would temper those of Morrigan.

They reached the front of the dais, where Alistair and Kira were speaking with a woman that Kali vaguely recognized. At the sight of them, Alistair smiled and nodded apologetically to the woman. "Forgive me, Bann Alfstanna, but we must speak with the Grey Wardens."

Bann Alfstanna nodded and smiled brightly to Ashara and Kali. "Ah, Wardens. I am sure you both have heard this in spades, but the Maker truly smiled upon us when he sent you to us in our time of need." The smile slipped a bit from her face. "And I wish both of you to know that Waking Sea shall not forget what you have done for my brother. Irminric has been taken care of by his fellow templars; they believe he shall make a full recovery."

Kali winced at the reminder of Howe's dungeon but Ashara smiled easily, no trace of hesitation on her face. She shifted Anyu, who was snuggling up against her chest as if ready for a nap. "I am glad to hear that he will recover."

"Thanks to what you did. You will always find a warm welcome at my estate, Wardens." With a polite nod of her head, Bann Alfstanna left to join some of the other nobles.

When she was gone, Alistair glanced around the hall and looked at Kira. "Do you think the others will miss us for a few moments?"

"It would not be seemly to disappear for too long," Kira said. "But if we are swift it should be no trouble."

Alistair nodded and gestured for Ashara and Kali to follow him and Kira to a corner of the room where they wouldn't be overheard.

"What's wrong, Alistair?" Ashara asked. "You look bothered."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking hesitant. "You and Kali are going to Amaranthine tomorrow morning, aren't you?"

Ashara nodded. "Yes. We'll be back for your wedding and Kira's coronation, but we really need to help the new Wardens settle in."

Kali bit her bottom lip. In the short time she had been Second, she had already discovered that she hated putting people through the Joining ritual. It was horrible to watch someone die, but those recruits had been tainted by the darkspawn that had attacked Denerim. There had been no other option, and she had been told that out of the ten recruits, having only one person die was good. But it still bothered her.

"So," Alistair continued, "I won't have a chance to speak with you this evening. Better to speak now." He and Kira exchanged a glance. "This morning we received a letter from the First Warden of Weisshaupt."

Ashara raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Well, he's already started asking questions about the Blight. A few of the soldiers have said that Kali here was the one who killed the Archdemon, and apparently the First Warden's gotten wind of it. He wants to know why she's still alive."

Ashara didn't seem too concerned. She leaned her cheek against the top of Anyu's head. "Well, we knew he was going to ask, didn't we?"

"Yes, but we had never decided on what to tell him," Kira said. "I suppose we could always claim that we do not know what happened, but I doubt he would truly believe that. I do know that we cannot simply tell him that we allowed an apostate to perform some unknown protection spell."

"Why not?" Kali asked. No one had ever explained why they had to keep it secret. "Why would the First Warden be angry about it? If it kept us alive, and the Blight was still ended?"

Kira shook her head. "They will want to track Morrigan down if such a thing were known. The Wardens are not a group to leave unfinished business." A wry smile crossed her lips. "One could almost say they are as secretive as the Seekers of the Chantry. They will want to seek Morrigan out, discover how much she knows of Warden secrets, find how she kept us alive and, if need be, get rid of her."

Kali was aghast at the thought of it. "They'd kill her? Just because she saved our lives?"

The future Queen looked almost apologetic. "I have never been to Weisshaupt, but Riordan once told me that they seem to enjoy holding power, and do not relinquish it lightly. They demand that their secrets remain secrets, and the First Warden cannot stand the thought that a fellow Warden may have knowledge he is not privy to."

"Well, he's just going to have to get used to it," Ashara said carelessly, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Duncan sent a message to him asking for aid against the Blight. Every other Warden in Thedas, including the First Warden, knew that Ferelden was under attack and all of them did nothing." Her eyes narrowed. "The First Warden can't just abandon us during a Blight, then suddenly decide that we should obey him. He doesn't command us."

Kira hesitated. "Ashara, you are the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. If you decide to cut ties with the First Warden, it could lead to a lot of problems."

"I don't care," Ashara retorted. "He abandoned us, Kira. He can rot in the abyss for all I care." She saw that Alistair was about to say something, and shifted Anyu so that she could hold up a hand. "Look, I'm not cutting ties with every Warden on Thedas. All I'm saying is that I have no intention of answering to the First Warden. He, and Warden-Commander Mikhail, who ruled that his Wardens should stay in Orlais, have no welcome here. Should any other Warden decide to come, they will be welcomed as our brothers and sisters."

Kira acknowledged her words, knowing that the final say rested with Ashara. "Very well. But, as Warden-Commander, you must be the one to write to the First Warden."

"All right." Ashara grinned, as if she was already planning what she was going to say. "Now, Kali and I should go find Tamlen and Zevran. We need to get them to sleep, or else they won't be able to help us get ready to leave in the morning."

"Then we'll say our good-byes now," Alistair said. "Travel safely; we'll see you in another week."

oOo

**Eight weeks after the death of the Archdemon **

**Letter to Mikhail, Warden-Commander of Orlais**

_Dearest Mikhail,_

_This letter is to officially inform you that I can no longer be a member of the Grey Wardens, having taken up a duty that leaves me unable to serve my brothers and sisters. As you are no doubt aware, I have recently wed Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden. I trust that this news comes as no surprise to you, as I have received well wishes from my cousin, Empress Celene__, as well as from my mother, who suddenly wishes to renew her friendship with me. I have no doubt that you have __been informed of the situation, yet I wished there to be no mistake between us. I can no longer serve the Wardens. My duty to Ferelden, a country that I have come to love, must come first. _

_Regretfully, I must also inform you that our brother Warden, Aric, was killed in battle while fighting the Archdemon. He died courageously, and will be missed by all of us here in Ferelden. His body was taken to Orzammar, where he was returned to the Stone and honored by the King of Orzammar personally, an honor I believe Aric would have wished. The ceremony was performed as is proper for a dwarf of his standing, and I have been assured that his name will be remembered in the Shaperate. King Bhelen has informed me that Aric's cousins in Orzammar shall take his father's family name, and shall be restored to the Warrior Caste. I believe this is what Aric would have wanted._

_It also grieves me to inform you that our brother Riordan was tragically slain in Arl Howe's dungeons. His death was avenged, but the loss of such fine Wardens is a blow. We recovered Riordan's body, and he was burned in pyre as is proper with his Ferelden brothers and sisters in attendance. __Both he and Aric are to be honored here in Ferelden; the Wardens here are building a memorial in Amaranthine to all that died during the Blight. Both men were good friends to me, and as their Warden-Commander I hope you will agree that everything was done that could be done to honor them._

_I regret that you did not fight along side us, Brother. The Ferelden Wardens are a courageous group, and have ended the Blight in such a short time, a thing none of us could have believed. I myself would not have believed it, had I not been here to witness it first-hand. Our Warden-Commander and her Second have united a country, and I am sorry that my fellow Orlesian Wardens were not there to be part of it, for surely it would have done us all good._

_Trusting that this letter finds you in good health as it leaves me,_

_Kira Theirin, Queen of Ferelden _

**Letter to the First Warden of Weisshaupt**

_First Warden,_

_I've been told that you have many questions regarding what happened during the Blight, and that you have informed my king that you expect those questions to be answered. Leaving aside the fact that you turned to my king, when you know that I am the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, I'm writing to tell you that you're going to have to remain disappointed._

_Since you seemed quite content to abandon Ferelden during the Blight, I'm sure you'll understand when I say I'm content to return the favor and tell you that I have no intentions of answering to one such as you. Kira has told me that I'm expected to send you regular reports of who passes the Joining so that you can keep track of our Wardens, and that I'm supposed to send you regular updates of what we're doing. Well, that's not going to happen. You can do what you like in Weisshaupt, and I'll do what I like in Ferelden._

_A lady known as Mistress Woosley, who claims that you sent her to keep an eye on our financial situation, is carrying this letter. She said that you want to measure our success so that other Wardens can attempt to hold titles and land for their own. Well, I told her that you have no right to keep track of us, and I dismissed her from Vigil's Keep. She put up quite a fight, but I'm sure you've heard of my amazing persuasion skills, and of the loyalty of the Wardens who live with us. Soon enough, she saw things from our point of view and agreed to leave. _

_But I warn you: if you send any more people to keep an eye on Amaranthine, I can't promise to return them to you in such good condition as Mistress Woosley, who now has the most peculiar fear of crickets._

_Hoping to never hear from you,_

_Ashara Mahariel, Warden-Commander of Ferelden _

oOo

**Vigil's Keep**

**Nine weeks after the death of the Archdemon**

Ashara and Kali stood on the battlements of Vigil's Keep, looking down into the courtyard where the new Wardens were training. Kali grinned to herself to see Zevran there with the others, showing some of the rogues how to blend into the shadows. It reminded her of all those times at camp, when he had spent hours patiently teaching her how to use her natural skills. Zevran had decided that although he didn't want to go through the Joining–claiming there were some fluids even he wouldn't touch–he would still help train new Wardens and stay with her at Vigil's Keep.

He felt her eyes on him and glanced up. When he saw her watching he threw her a naughty wink before turning back to the new Wardens.

Kali flushed slightly and glanced at Ashara, who would probably tease her about it, but Ashara was busy watching Tamlen, who was walking around some of the new Wardens at the archery range, showing them how to hold their bows properly.

"Can you believe we're actually alive?" Kali asked quietly, still amazed to be out here, feeling the cool breeze on her skin. It was amazing to think that she was standing at Vigil's Keep, recognized as Second to the Warden-Commander, known as the one who killed the Archdemon. Heck, she couldn't even believe she _had _killed the Archdemon!

Ashara let out a laugh, a true girl's laugh that was lighter than Kali had ever heard. "No, I really can't. I'm not going to lie, _ashalan_, I almost didn't expect us to survive it. But, we came out of it intact." She glanced at her arm, where the skin of her left arm was puckered and pale from where the shriek's claws had caught her. She and Wynne had been able to heal most of the damage, but Ashara had to train with it daily to keep her mobility. "Well, _almost _intact."

Kali couldn't help but laugh with her; it was hard to be concerned about injuries against the greater joy of their survival. She lifted her shirt up a bit to show Ashara the deep scars on her stomach from where she had been attacked by the Archdemon's claws. The skin was white, bumpy, and very obvious, but she couldn't even bring herself to care. They were alive! "Zevran said that scars like these are attractive. He says they make us look dangerous."

Ashara's laugh echoed against the stone walls of the Keep; they were still drunk on their happiness. "He would say that, wouldn't he?" She leaned forward and smiled up at the bright blue sky. "You know, Keeper Marethari is bringing the Clan near Amaranthine soon. She wants us to visit her."

"Really? Isn't she going to stay in the Brecilian Forest with the others? I thought the Dalish would start trying to build homes soon."

"Apparently she's planning to take the Clan north, towards Kirkwall. She says that with the Blight ended in Ferelden it's time to move on; she wants to pass the word to the northern Clans and invite them to join the others in the Brecilian Forest."

Kali was intrigued at the thought of Dalish clans from other countries. "Do you think they'll come?"

Ashara shrugged. "I'm not sure. If Marethari meets with their Keepers and explains the situation, they might decide that having land is worth a little risk, but it'll be hard for them to trust a promise that a human makes." She shook her head and then smiled. "But just think what this means! The Clans will know that we have land of our own! They'll know that two of the _Elvhen _ended the Blight, that one of them actually killed the Archdemon! Between Shianni being a respected member of the Landsmeet and the Dalish having land of their own, our cousins will know that we really _can _change our lives!"

Kali was grinning, catching her enthusiasm. "Then we've already started, haven't we? Our promise to help our people."

"We have! We'll start our work here in Ferelden. With Alistair and Kira helping us to bridge the gap, I think we can make everyone equal."

Kali leaned forward on the battlements, smiling happily. "So when is Marethari coming? I'd like to visit your Clan again."

"By next week. She says that she has a special task she needs to do before they move north."

It was Ashara's sly grin that alerted Kali. "What is it?"

"She wants to formally induct you as a member of our Clan."

Kali gaped at the Dalish woman. "Really?"

"Of course! After everything you've done, why would you be surprised? You'll be welcomed among any of the _Elvhenan_, formally known as our sister!"

Kali flushed at the thought of it. "I... I think I'd like that."

Ashara was beaming. "Good! There's going to be a huge celebration! Dancing and singing! And _Hahren _Paivel will make that fruit juice you said you love!"

As Ashara continued on with how the celebration would go, and plans for all that they were going to do for their people, Kali looked up at the clear blue sky. _Are you watching me, Mama? You always told me that I was meant to do more than live as a poor elf in the Alienage. I hope you're proud of me._ She didn't receive a reply to her thoughts, but it almost felt like her mother was smiling down on her.

Kali couldn't seem to stop smiling. She felt like she had finally found her place in life. Sure, she had the taint still flowing in her veins; her life expectancy wasn't all that great, but at least she could have a life. A life as something more than an unwilling bride or a poor elf.

For the first time, Kali could look towards the future with hope.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** Omg this story is finished! This was my first attempt at a full, novel-type fanfic, and I can't believe it's completed! :D I've learned so much about writing this past year, mostly due to the wonderful people over at CMDA, who are always around to offer suggestions or advice. I owe you guys a lot for all of your help.  
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_Thank you to everyone who stuck with this, or who started reading and continued on. Your thoughts, suggestions, and comments were so appreciated; I adored each and every review I got. I really can't thank you guys enough! Thank you also to those of you reading; it makes me so happy to know that there are people who enjoyed this! :D  
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_A very special thank you goes to Kira Tamarion, my beta goddess, for all of your help. You've been my beta for roughly forty chapters; I really don't know what I would have done without your encouragement and help. And, because of you, I found the addition of Kira's character, who became so much bigger than I originally thought. Your writing has been such a huge inspiration to me since I first started reading way back at the first rough draft of EoaS, when Ashara was the only Warden and Kali didn't exist.  
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_For those of you interested, Ashara and Kali's journey isn't quite finished yet. Their story continues in the next part: Eye of the Storm. The first chapter will be posted tomorrow morning.  
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_Thank you again to everyone for your support and encouragement. I can't tell you how much its meant to me._


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